2011 is just two days old and it already feels like it will be a good one.
We often talk of resolutions we make, should make, are gonna get around to making or skip altogether.
I was asked what my New Year's resolutions were going to be. Instead of answering the typical nonsense of 'exercise more, eat right and lose weight', I pondered. What would truly be a resolution that would change the lives of the people who share this planet with me?
Resolutions are often "I" propositions with no regard to the "WE" who inhabit the planet.
Some things I can consider that will make life more bearable for my fellowman:
+ Listen without forming my 'wise worded response'. Truly listen to what their heart is saying to me and wait for them to ask for any of my opinions.
+ Laugh more. Too much stress is caused by simply taking things way to seriously.
+ Smile at others. Who cares if they think I'm a lunatic for smiling at them? The fact is, people can have their entire day changed with just one smile.
+ Find opportunities to do meaninful activities of service, care and compassion for others without waiting to be 'organized' to do them. Something done NOW imperfectly beats the heck out of nothing done at all because it wasn't organized perfectly.
+ Love my family without reservations. They deserve it if for no other reason than the fact that they endure me.
Those may not be stellar, but they are enough to be getting on with.
Happy 2011!
January 2, 2011
December 28, 2010
Pajama Jeans... no, really
Pajama jeans are apparently the next big thing. Or at least something to cover up "the next big thing".
For those of you not sufficiently educated in cable television's "buy it here now!" channels hawking everything from simulated Princess Diana rings to toilet seats that glow in the dark (believe me, they DO make them!), allow me to share the latest thing heating up the phone lines of the 1-800 and 1-888 marketplaces.
Apparently, these special items are a 'proprietary blend of cotton and spandex'. As 'comfortable as pajamas, yet as stylish as boot cut jeans'. It's PAJAMA JEANS!
These pants are a strip of elastic from being fancy sweat pants, people!!!
The idea here is to look like you cared enough to put on clothes to run down to the Pig for a quart of milk and a loaf of farmer's cheese.
The reality is that you rolled over, clapped your lights on with "The Clapper" which you ALSO bought from 'buy it here, buy it now TV', slipped on a pair of mules and headed to the Pig in your dadgum PAJAMAS.
They are NOT pants, people!!!
They are PAJAMAS made to look like denim with the added benefit of all of that spandex to keep your fat rolls from wadding around like they normally do in plain old flannel.
And regardless of what the high quality video of a size 6 model shows you, you will NOT look even more stylish and attractive by putting high heels on with your dang pajamas!!
Have you ever thought your Grandma looked like a fashion maven in her flannel nightgown with the addition of a pair of high heeled shoes?? Yeah, me neither.
What's next?
It's a night gown and an evening gown all in one!!! The Gown-Gown!! Oh wait. Wendy's hamburger chain already beat me to that one with their 'where's the beef' series of commercials that showed the former Soviet Union's version of a fashion show. "Next, is eef-ningk weah…" and the 'attractive' model is holding a flashlight and wearing a gray dumpy bag dress.
I'm kinda thinking the same people that handled that ad campaign were brought on board to cover these pajama jeans.
Look here, gentle readers. If the word PAJAMAS is attached to the clothing item, it isn't appropriate to be seen in public in them except in elementary school on pajama day or if you are a college freshman who believes you are being cutting edge and avante guard in your choice of day wear.
Other than that, you look like what you truly are, an old person trying desperately to believe no one, not one single soul at the Pig knows you are in your PJ's while you are circumnavigating the produce aisle.
Trust me. We know. We KNOW.
Go home and put some clothes on Granny! You are embarrassing yourself and those high heels don't do a thing for you.
The only thing that would be worse is a pair of gold loafers or fur trimmed bedroom shoes. Don't go there people!! Just say "NO"!
For those of you not sufficiently educated in cable television's "buy it here now!" channels hawking everything from simulated Princess Diana rings to toilet seats that glow in the dark (believe me, they DO make them!), allow me to share the latest thing heating up the phone lines of the 1-800 and 1-888 marketplaces.
Apparently, these special items are a 'proprietary blend of cotton and spandex'. As 'comfortable as pajamas, yet as stylish as boot cut jeans'. It's PAJAMA JEANS!
These pants are a strip of elastic from being fancy sweat pants, people!!!
The idea here is to look like you cared enough to put on clothes to run down to the Pig for a quart of milk and a loaf of farmer's cheese.
The reality is that you rolled over, clapped your lights on with "The Clapper" which you ALSO bought from 'buy it here, buy it now TV', slipped on a pair of mules and headed to the Pig in your dadgum PAJAMAS.
They are NOT pants, people!!!
They are PAJAMAS made to look like denim with the added benefit of all of that spandex to keep your fat rolls from wadding around like they normally do in plain old flannel.
And regardless of what the high quality video of a size 6 model shows you, you will NOT look even more stylish and attractive by putting high heels on with your dang pajamas!!
Have you ever thought your Grandma looked like a fashion maven in her flannel nightgown with the addition of a pair of high heeled shoes?? Yeah, me neither.
What's next?
It's a night gown and an evening gown all in one!!! The Gown-Gown!! Oh wait. Wendy's hamburger chain already beat me to that one with their 'where's the beef' series of commercials that showed the former Soviet Union's version of a fashion show. "Next, is eef-ningk weah…" and the 'attractive' model is holding a flashlight and wearing a gray dumpy bag dress.
I'm kinda thinking the same people that handled that ad campaign were brought on board to cover these pajama jeans.
Look here, gentle readers. If the word PAJAMAS is attached to the clothing item, it isn't appropriate to be seen in public in them except in elementary school on pajama day or if you are a college freshman who believes you are being cutting edge and avante guard in your choice of day wear.
Other than that, you look like what you truly are, an old person trying desperately to believe no one, not one single soul at the Pig knows you are in your PJ's while you are circumnavigating the produce aisle.
Trust me. We know. We KNOW.
Go home and put some clothes on Granny! You are embarrassing yourself and those high heels don't do a thing for you.
The only thing that would be worse is a pair of gold loafers or fur trimmed bedroom shoes. Don't go there people!! Just say "NO"!
December 26, 2010
Christmas, Sewing and Double-Dog Dares
Christmas time - a wonderful pause button on the hectic jumble of day to day living that makes us all reflect on something greater and more special than anything we could really wrap in paper or festoon in ribbon.
The Savior came into the world to save us all.
It just doesn't come clearer than that. Without His birth, there could have been no Atonement, but without His Atonement OUR new birth in Him could never be.
What a priceless and unwrappable gift indeed!
Because of the tangible and intangible benefits of the birth of the Savior, we likewise give gifts - both those that can be wrapped and bedecked with bows and those which cannot. Gifts like laughter, time and love that simply are too large in measure to cover or box up.
During the course of the pre-holiday fun, I made some pajamas for my menfolk. I haven't sewed anything in 30 years. Repairing a hem or sewing on buttons doesn't count because I do both of those by hand.
The PJ's came out well. Kari patiently coaxed me along, refilled the bobbin thingy on her sewing machine and stuffed thread through the eye of the needled that delighted in winking the thread out from time to time so I had to retrace my path as I sewed.
Here's the PJ pants as they looked Christmas morning:
The Savior came into the world to save us all.
It just doesn't come clearer than that. Without His birth, there could have been no Atonement, but without His Atonement OUR new birth in Him could never be.
What a priceless and unwrappable gift indeed!
Because of the tangible and intangible benefits of the birth of the Savior, we likewise give gifts - both those that can be wrapped and bedecked with bows and those which cannot. Gifts like laughter, time and love that simply are too large in measure to cover or box up.
During the course of the pre-holiday fun, I made some pajamas for my menfolk. I haven't sewed anything in 30 years. Repairing a hem or sewing on buttons doesn't count because I do both of those by hand.
The PJ's came out well. Kari patiently coaxed me along, refilled the bobbin thingy on her sewing machine and stuffed thread through the eye of the needled that delighted in winking the thread out from time to time so I had to retrace my path as I sewed.
Here's the PJ pants as they looked Christmas morning:
Jared gets monkey pants - skiing, snowboarding and smiling.
Yellow, black and red plaid PJ pants for Thomas.
Rick receives blue, gray and green plaid PJ's.
Yes, Christmas PJ's may seem a bit odd, but I think they like them even if I did make them. I enjoyed doing it and hope I can maybe do some other simple projects as time goes forward.
As we gathered for the family meal and football (sadly, the Cowboys lost), we laughed, we talked, and we watched the parade of life as the kids are not kids anymore. They are all young adults trying to find their way in the world.
Two dogs romped about to bring havoc and chilled noses to the festivities. Nana came with the Kucejko family and EZ, as the hound in residence, felt compelled to remind her that she was the guest, not he.
Nana managed also to find a nice cold duck pond to take a winter swim. Gotta love hunting dogs!
It snowed.
Yes indeedy. ALABAMA SNOW!! Sufficient to cause concern on the roadways of life here.
Our street looks positively lovely with a coating of slushy snow!
Our home with a dusting of snow... more actually fell all through the day and night.
Because snow is such a rarity, and because accumulation of snow is even more so, it requires the attention of a First Class goader to encourage stupid behavior. Fortunately, I am up to the task with years of diligently applied experience to bring the level of the room up to the challenge.
We spoke of snow, of skiing and the hilarity of life in the snow.
Then, the gauntlet had to be thrown down. I double-dog dared Beth to take a trip down the slopes of Alabama.
Never one to allow a challenge to pass unheeded... Beth provided the moment and Pete took some blackmail worthy photos and a little movie. Not that I would blackmail her at all because that would be sinful and wrong and so out of character for me. Yeah, I know. I slay myself laughing at that one, too.
Don't mock the slippery slopes of Mount Canebrake!!!
Although they are more well known for their golf course, Canebrake has expanded! Now, a new downhill run and slalom course keeps the seasonal tourists around for those hot toddies made in the Clubhouse. Golf cart wheels are replaced with treads from crashed and recycled snowmobiles to provide surefooted traction for hours of red ball snow golf. They also are the means for ascending Mount Canebrake after a long run downhill.
Novice skiers take on the Canebrake Bunny Slopes. They provide both adequate challenge and a willing and handsome instructor who assists in your learning process and takes a photograph of you on the slopes.
More experienced skiers can take on the newly powdered slopes by the 8th green.
After a long day on the mountain top, it's nice to come back downhill and head toward the ride to the lodge where a cup of steaming hot cocoa awaits each skiier by the ample fireplace.
Yes, it's skiing at it's finest in Alabama.
Even if you have to double-dog dare the participants.
Truthfully, the only iffy part of the dare wasn't whether or not Beth would do it... it was more 'when' she would do it.
Pete says we get each other into trouble.
He's just jealous because I didn't double-dog dare him. That and the fact that Beth and I have a complete lack of shame when it comes to witless crap like this. But someone has to do it!! Otherwise there's just another cold night indoors on winter's day when Church was cancelled due to snow.
Merry CHRISTmas and Happy New Year!
December 23, 2010
The Danger of Snow Peas
I feel compelled to warn you of a serious danger to life, limb and the pursuit of happiness.
It is a responsibility I take very seriously.
Snow peas.
They can show up anywhere at anytime regardless of what kind of food you have ordered. And... in the wrong hands they can be lethal.
Sure, I hear you snickering. "Snow peas?!?!?"
Yes. Snow peas.
They are a threat to national security. Just ask Beth. She's had years of military training teaching her to recognize and eliminate threats and transport pop tarts all over the world.
You see, snow peas are aliens. Pod people, if you will. They are thrill killers. Their only design is to come in, take over the plate of food you thought you ordered in complete safety and compel you to defend yourself from their vicious attack the best way you can.
Only when someone at the table is brave enough to withstand the onslaught is anyone safe.
Only when someone is willing to go into hand to pea combat is calm and order restored.
Only when violence is averted can the world snow peas... uh... know peace.
People, this is a serious issue!!
It compels the gravest of attention be paid!
Snow peas are the enemy of decent people everywhere.
If Xan hadn't been there to throw herself on the pile of snow peas and risk her own life to save Beth, we could have been picking out funeral clothing today.
Oh, the horrors of war! Patton was right when he said it. "Peas are hell!"
I myself have suffered grave indignity and injustice at the hands - uh, make that pods - of peas!
The time was the early '70's. The place was the dining room of my friend Renee's house. The danger zone... the chafing dish of peas with tiny white pearl onions nestled into their deceptively calming sea of green.
The perpetrator was none other than Renee's own mother, who frankly should have known better. After all, she was an adult who knew the dangers of the world. But little did we know it at the time, she had already been subsumed by the peas! They had taken over!
Employing all the usual stalling tactics of stirring the peas around to make it look like we'd ingested any of the enemy and poking along at the dinner table in hopes that dessert would be announced, we were unable to fool Renee's mother. After all, she was a pod person and she had a pea by pea count of the deadly green host upon our plates.
Subterfuge would be required to survive the impending tragedy in the making. Only sharp wits and little plastic purses could save us now! When Renee's mother left the room, ostensibly to bring the dessert tray around, we hastily scooped the offending menace into the little purses for disposal in a safe place later on. It was kill or be killed in this tango of torture and we were not about to please the peas and lose out on our valuable time to dress as go-go dancers while her mother napped after lunch! There are only so many hours in the day!
After the meal was completed, we carefully carried our enemy-laden purses to Renee's upstairs window where we unceremoniously dumped them out ... right upon the unsuspecting head of her brother Scott, who just happened to be mowing the lawn right beneath the bedroom window.
Thankfully, he was NOT a snitch for the enemy and kept his silence regarding our mission of digestive mercy. He even mowed over the peas repeatedly to ensure our kill. I think Scott hated the pod people as much as we did.
Remember this cautionary tale! It could well save your life. You never know what nefarious agents they have already placed in your path. Your very next meal may be infested with snow peas. And may God have mercy on your soul if you are left there at the table without Xan or a plastic purse to save you.
It is a responsibility I take very seriously.
Snow peas.
They can show up anywhere at anytime regardless of what kind of food you have ordered. And... in the wrong hands they can be lethal.
Sure, I hear you snickering. "Snow peas?!?!?"
Yes. Snow peas.
They are a threat to national security. Just ask Beth. She's had years of military training teaching her to recognize and eliminate threats and transport pop tarts all over the world.
You see, snow peas are aliens. Pod people, if you will. They are thrill killers. Their only design is to come in, take over the plate of food you thought you ordered in complete safety and compel you to defend yourself from their vicious attack the best way you can.
Only when someone at the table is brave enough to withstand the onslaught is anyone safe.
Only when someone is willing to go into hand to pea combat is calm and order restored.
Only when violence is averted can the world snow peas... uh... know peace.
People, this is a serious issue!!
It compels the gravest of attention be paid!
Snow peas are the enemy of decent people everywhere.
If Xan hadn't been there to throw herself on the pile of snow peas and risk her own life to save Beth, we could have been picking out funeral clothing today.
Oh, the horrors of war! Patton was right when he said it. "Peas are hell!"
I myself have suffered grave indignity and injustice at the hands - uh, make that pods - of peas!
The time was the early '70's. The place was the dining room of my friend Renee's house. The danger zone... the chafing dish of peas with tiny white pearl onions nestled into their deceptively calming sea of green.
The perpetrator was none other than Renee's own mother, who frankly should have known better. After all, she was an adult who knew the dangers of the world. But little did we know it at the time, she had already been subsumed by the peas! They had taken over!
Employing all the usual stalling tactics of stirring the peas around to make it look like we'd ingested any of the enemy and poking along at the dinner table in hopes that dessert would be announced, we were unable to fool Renee's mother. After all, she was a pod person and she had a pea by pea count of the deadly green host upon our plates.
Subterfuge would be required to survive the impending tragedy in the making. Only sharp wits and little plastic purses could save us now! When Renee's mother left the room, ostensibly to bring the dessert tray around, we hastily scooped the offending menace into the little purses for disposal in a safe place later on. It was kill or be killed in this tango of torture and we were not about to please the peas and lose out on our valuable time to dress as go-go dancers while her mother napped after lunch! There are only so many hours in the day!
After the meal was completed, we carefully carried our enemy-laden purses to Renee's upstairs window where we unceremoniously dumped them out ... right upon the unsuspecting head of her brother Scott, who just happened to be mowing the lawn right beneath the bedroom window.
Thankfully, he was NOT a snitch for the enemy and kept his silence regarding our mission of digestive mercy. He even mowed over the peas repeatedly to ensure our kill. I think Scott hated the pod people as much as we did.
Remember this cautionary tale! It could well save your life. You never know what nefarious agents they have already placed in your path. Your very next meal may be infested with snow peas. And may God have mercy on your soul if you are left there at the table without Xan or a plastic purse to save you.
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