Probably the one who always wanted you to prepare his plate has figured out how to get his food some other way by now and is not starving.
That's right. It was my brother Zack. He has Downs Syndrome and as a small child, needed a lot of care and assistance. I was that care giver and assister for him. He grew to only let me get his plate of food, as well as want only my help with many other things. And now he's grown, quite the uncle and is a big help around the house. "I'm seventeen!" he'll tell us over and over... "You know why? Because Dad said so!"
Next time we get gas I'll have to try and find the button! :) thanks for informing me ahead of time that it is impossible to find.
The following comment will help you "find" that button...
Often the emergency shut off button is on the building.
Somehow I knew this person would say that! My question is... why would they put the button clear across the lot, on the building, several yards away from where the gas spill would be happening? It must not be THAT big of an emergency when gas spills. Or, maybe the gas station knows that the farther away the button is from the spill, the more gas will spill and the more somebody will have to pay for gas....? Now that's an idea.
You haven't failed as badly as I did if they aren't [potty] trained by 4.
4 would be awesome. At this point, I'll be satisfied to have it done by 16.
Build Noah's Ark!! The children will love that.
Landon actually mentioned this yesterday and thought we should just build an ark. Although, I think he'd like to have it just for a playhouse; not because the basement has a tendency towards leaks.
Potty training...well, they say every child is different (whoever 'they' are).
THEY are definitely right. I wish THEY would have advice for all the DIFFERENT children though since THEY seem to be so smart about what THEY SAY.
Was the slime a result of the toothbrush taking a vacation?
That must be what happened at your house once. Another good guess would've been along the lines of toddlers transferring saturated toothbrushes back into the toothbrush basket which in turn causes a collection of slime to build up. You get the idea.
Recycle that tooth brush to cleaning dirty corners in the bathroom, ie tubs and where toilet sits on the floor.
Great idea and one I plan to do when my kids are older. At this point, they have proven on many occasion that they are not shy about the toothbrush they put in their mouth and would use Toilet Toothbrush without care. Even just to suck on. Yeah... we just won't go there yet.
If the tooth brushes are stored standing on their handles so that the bristle ends can air between uses they probably don't develop the slime deposit so fast.
You know, I have thought of that suggestion since you mentioned it. I will actually have to blog about one reason why that can't work as much as I wish it could. (in a nutshell, we have no extra counter space for a tooth brush cup [nor do we have adequate space between shelves] and one of us has a toothbrush that has a handle that doesn't fit in cups very well... specifically toothbrush cups.)
You didn't mention me either. I fit in none of said categories. I am the sister commenter.
Elaborate more than that and I will design an unsaid category for you.
I was determined to comment, but could think of nothing to say. So, consider yourself commented...;-)
This is the best comment I have ever received. I am inspired by your determination.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
When It's Time To End The Series
That's all folks! My series of "When" posts have officially ended. It was good to feel the pressure I had from knowing I publically stated that there were several finished drafts in my drafts folder. Something about admitting that was like confessing something but yet not giving it up. I hated that some of you were suspecting that I may just be a procrastinater. (I finally got around to saying that...)
So, there you have it. Our "series" is ended.
The next week will find me busily enjoying company and filling up on girl time. A member from here and the author of here have embarked on a plan to come visit this ex-Wisconsin girl. Hopefully we can have a productive visit together and don't overload the men around here with too many silly laughs and "I-got-the-giggles-for-no-reason-again" moments. Although, something in me says that we will indeed laugh far too much. And drink way too much coffee. And stay up way too late. And be way too ambitious. And have way too much fun...
So, there you have it. Our "series" is ended.
The next week will find me busily enjoying company and filling up on girl time. A member from here and the author of here have embarked on a plan to come visit this ex-Wisconsin girl. Hopefully we can have a productive visit together and don't overload the men around here with too many silly laughs and "I-got-the-giggles-for-no-reason-again" moments. Although, something in me says that we will indeed laugh far too much. And drink way too much coffee. And stay up way too late. And be way too ambitious. And have way too much fun...
Saturday, April 19, 2008
When Knocking On Wood Is Something You Regret Doing
Just the other day, I was patting myself on the back (and knocking on wood) over something I had achieved for so long. In all my 4 years of motherhood, I had never once had to call the life-line for consultation and information: Poison Control. I had never had to endure the traumatic experience of a child ingesting a near-fatal substance or realize my darling baby had just consumed a poisonous substance.
Until the other day...
I was cleaning the guinea pig's cage and diligently performing virtuous womanly acts upon Alice's (the guinea pig) house. It was near sparkling and we were almost done when I requested one of my children give the wailing baby a toy to be entertained by. And what should the child-who's-name-we-will-not-disclose-at-this-time give the baby? A pee concentrated block of wood that has been sitting in guinea pig manure for several months. It was the chewing block for the guinea pig's sharp teeth but I think she had used it for her lavatory instead.
So the baby had guinea pig pee breath and guinea pig pee drool on his shirt and the end of the pee concentrated block had been sanitized with a saturation of the baby's own personal baby drool. I guess that was probably the cleanest the guinea pig's chewing block had been in a while.
As all mothers of the Twenty-first century do when they are in a predicament, I turned to Google and googled, "Infant swallowed guinea pig urine" but only got information about guinea pigs being used for laboratory use and how they're kidneys operate and make urine out of the laboratory-specimenal-concoctions administered for testing. That wasn't much help to me because I knew my guinea pig's kidneys were having no problem excreting urine. Hasn't any one's child ever swallowed guinea pig pee before? Apparently not.
At the suggestion of a close family member, I made the call to Poison Control and explained the dire situation. They concluded that the baby probably did not get enough to become contaminated and that I should just watch for signs of food poisoning... ie., diarrhea. "Wonderful," I thought to myself since he already had diarrhea thanks to all the teeth he is getting right now.
Surprisingly, he had no complications and he didn't even have diarrhea anymore either -- whether related or unrelated to the guinea pig pee block, his messed up bowels were no longer messed up.
And so ends another story on the reasoning that people should just really stop knocking on wood. It's also another confirmation that pride goes before a fall, just like the Proverb says. How sad that I use my baby as a guinea pig to test these theories though.
Until the other day...
I was cleaning the guinea pig's cage and diligently performing virtuous womanly acts upon Alice's (the guinea pig) house. It was near sparkling and we were almost done when I requested one of my children give the wailing baby a toy to be entertained by. And what should the child-who's-name-we-will-not-disclose-at-this-time give the baby? A pee concentrated block of wood that has been sitting in guinea pig manure for several months. It was the chewing block for the guinea pig's sharp teeth but I think she had used it for her lavatory instead.
So the baby had guinea pig pee breath and guinea pig pee drool on his shirt and the end of the pee concentrated block had been sanitized with a saturation of the baby's own personal baby drool. I guess that was probably the cleanest the guinea pig's chewing block had been in a while.
As all mothers of the Twenty-first century do when they are in a predicament, I turned to Google and googled, "Infant swallowed guinea pig urine" but only got information about guinea pigs being used for laboratory use and how they're kidneys operate and make urine out of the laboratory-specimenal-concoctions administered for testing. That wasn't much help to me because I knew my guinea pig's kidneys were having no problem excreting urine. Hasn't any one's child ever swallowed guinea pig pee before? Apparently not.
At the suggestion of a close family member, I made the call to Poison Control and explained the dire situation. They concluded that the baby probably did not get enough to become contaminated and that I should just watch for signs of food poisoning... ie., diarrhea. "Wonderful," I thought to myself since he already had diarrhea thanks to all the teeth he is getting right now.
Surprisingly, he had no complications and he didn't even have diarrhea anymore either -- whether related or unrelated to the guinea pig pee block, his messed up bowels were no longer messed up.
And so ends another story on the reasoning that people should just really stop knocking on wood. It's also another confirmation that pride goes before a fall, just like the Proverb says. How sad that I use my baby as a guinea pig to test these theories though.
Friday, April 18, 2008
When You Feel Like Blogging But Have Nothing To Say
Cry, Baby, Cry -- What a parent does in the throes of a cry baby moment. Or, at least what this parent did a few nights ago.
I'm Famous... Well, Not Really -- My family seems to be getting along just fine without me though. And that actually makes me feel good considering I used to live with those people and one of them would hardly let anyone else makes his plate of food except me. Yeah, I used to be really important back then. (like I'm not now. HA!)
I'm Famous... Well, Not Really -- My family seems to be getting along just fine without me though. And that actually makes me feel good considering I used to live with those people and one of them would hardly let anyone else makes his plate of food except me. Yeah, I used to be really important back then. (like I'm not now. HA!)
Thursday, April 17, 2008
When Being Informed Is Not Related To Being Prepared
In Case Of Emergency, Push The Invisible Button --
I was filling the van with gas the other day and happened to notice the warning that said "In Case of Emergency, Push Gas Shut-off Button" or something to that effect. Basically, if there was a fire or gas spill or if somebody started spraying you down with gas, hit the gas-shut-off button and you would be one step closer to resolving the problem.
So, before an accident occurred--not that I was expecting an accident but we all know what accidents are: something that happens unexpectedly (pregnancies happen unexpectedly too but they aren't what we'd call an "accident" necessarily. If that were the case, some of us would have "accidents" for children or perhaps would be "accidents" ourselves which I'm sure would not give these people a very good outlook on life so I won't throw the accident-definition-blanket over everything in life.)-- I decided to be a responsible citizen and get in touch with that gas shut off button. Like I said, I was only trying to be responsible.
As the tank filled with gas, I looked for that life saving button. I peered all over the structure the gas was coming out. I examined the support pillars. I checked everything in sight. I assumed that since an emergency situation would most likely happen in the vicinity of where I was using the gas, the gas-shut-off button should be in close proximity. But, it wasn't.
I never found the emergency button. Good thing there was no emergency that day or I'd still be looking for that button. Or, worse yet, I could be dead by now. Now isn't that a morbid thought?
I was filling the van with gas the other day and happened to notice the warning that said "In Case of Emergency, Push Gas Shut-off Button" or something to that effect. Basically, if there was a fire or gas spill or if somebody started spraying you down with gas, hit the gas-shut-off button and you would be one step closer to resolving the problem.
So, before an accident occurred--not that I was expecting an accident but we all know what accidents are: something that happens unexpectedly (pregnancies happen unexpectedly too but they aren't what we'd call an "accident" necessarily. If that were the case, some of us would have "accidents" for children or perhaps would be "accidents" ourselves which I'm sure would not give these people a very good outlook on life so I won't throw the accident-definition-blanket over everything in life.)-- I decided to be a responsible citizen and get in touch with that gas shut off button. Like I said, I was only trying to be responsible.
As the tank filled with gas, I looked for that life saving button. I peered all over the structure the gas was coming out. I examined the support pillars. I checked everything in sight. I assumed that since an emergency situation would most likely happen in the vicinity of where I was using the gas, the gas-shut-off button should be in close proximity. But, it wasn't.
I never found the emergency button. Good thing there was no emergency that day or I'd still be looking for that button. Or, worse yet, I could be dead by now. Now isn't that a morbid thought?
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
When Lemonade And Potty Training Are Hard To Do
When Life Gives You Lemons -- Just hope the lemons are good enough to make lemonade out of. This Old House has been, well, an experience. We are on standstill AGAIN. Although this time, the rooms and the entire perimeter have been framed, electricalled and the new stair way built and we were ready to drywall. And then the rain came. And then the floor leaked. And then we knew our problem was not fixed. Back to square one, here we come! We are making plans to just build an ark instead so that whether rain or shine, we will be dry. And so will our house.
Potty Training 101 does not work 100% all the time. If it works on Child #1, it is not guaranteed to be successful with subsequent children in your family. It may have just been a coincidence that it worked even just once. Or, it may only work for a select handful of boys. Or, it may only work for one boy. Or, worst case scenario, it may not work at all. Just thought I would throw that disclaimer out there.
Potty Training 101 does not work 100% all the time. If it works on Child #1, it is not guaranteed to be successful with subsequent children in your family. It may have just been a coincidence that it worked even just once. Or, it may only work for a select handful of boys. Or, it may only work for one boy. Or, worst case scenario, it may not work at all. Just thought I would throw that disclaimer out there.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
When Brushing Your Teeth Backfires
We all know we should change our tooth brushes every 3 months, right? Or, immediately following a cold or illness, right? Or, if the bristles become slightly over used, right? Or, if a stranger breaks into your bathroom and helps himself to your toothbrush, right? You knew all that, didn't you? (In case you didn't, now you know.)
Anyway, I learned recently that even if you follow the above Toothbrush Rule, there still can be one more guideline that up until now has been unknown to mankind and has never been mentioned in toothbrush etiquette books. Reason Number Five To Replace Toothbrush Is:
Brown, stinky slime that adheres to the back of the toothbrush.
And when you find it, don't use the toothbrush like I did. Your mouth will taste the way a musty basement smells and it will take several days to feel clean again.
The best way I can find to stay up-to-date on the condition of your toothbrush is to avoid using toothpaste for random brushings on random days. Kinda like your smoke alarm battery... you don't wait until there's a fire to test out your smoke alarm battery, you just change that battery when you re-set your clocks. (the only thing DST is good for in my opinion.)
So, skip the paste for once tonight and just make sure your toothbrush is in good working order. If everything tastes good to you, resume normal brushing habits in the next day or two and hope that the slime doesn't appear between brushings.
On second thought, maybe you should just visually examine your toothbrush before you brush your teeth the next time. And if you see the brown gooey stuff, just throw the tooth brush out and don't try to taste it. I can assure you it is not a good thing to try.
Anyway, I learned recently that even if you follow the above Toothbrush Rule, there still can be one more guideline that up until now has been unknown to mankind and has never been mentioned in toothbrush etiquette books. Reason Number Five To Replace Toothbrush Is:
Brown, stinky slime that adheres to the back of the toothbrush.
And when you find it, don't use the toothbrush like I did. Your mouth will taste the way a musty basement smells and it will take several days to feel clean again.
The best way I can find to stay up-to-date on the condition of your toothbrush is to avoid using toothpaste for random brushings on random days. Kinda like your smoke alarm battery... you don't wait until there's a fire to test out your smoke alarm battery, you just change that battery when you re-set your clocks. (the only thing DST is good for in my opinion.)
So, skip the paste for once tonight and just make sure your toothbrush is in good working order. If everything tastes good to you, resume normal brushing habits in the next day or two and hope that the slime doesn't appear between brushings.
On second thought, maybe you should just visually examine your toothbrush before you brush your teeth the next time. And if you see the brown gooey stuff, just throw the tooth brush out and don't try to taste it. I can assure you it is not a good thing to try.
Monday, April 14, 2008
For Your (but not you literally) Information
There is a ***Disclaimer*** at the end of my "about me" just to your left in the profile. Read and be informed.
This announcement is made for no one in particular and particularly for no one single person. Do not take this personally. I am only informing the general public of a necessary piece of information intended for the betterment of the general population's well-being.
(This post was first published April 14, 2008 in an attempt to resolve potential issues with non-existent readers that will hopefully evolve to potential readers with non-existent issues. This post is randomly republished at random times on random dates.)
This announcement is made for no one in particular and particularly for no one single person. Do not take this personally. I am only informing the general public of a necessary piece of information intended for the betterment of the general population's well-being.
(This post was first published April 14, 2008 in an attempt to resolve potential issues with non-existent readers that will hopefully evolve to potential readers with non-existent issues. This post is randomly republished at random times on random dates.)
(un) Related Randomness
I have a week's worth of blogs in my drafts bin just waiting to be published. Not that I will publish them all in a sequence of days that will fill up a week but it is definitely a thought. And a good one at that. (I am saying this to self motivate myself; not leave you on the edge of your seat in anticipational excitement.)
So, stay tuned for a series of posts that are filled with horrific and heroic tales of buttons for gas spills and how (not) to use your baby as a guinea pig for ingested guinea pig urine.
So, stay tuned for a series of posts that are filled with horrific and heroic tales of buttons for gas spills and how (not) to use your baby as a guinea pig for ingested guinea pig urine.
Readers Unite
The other day I had over 1,000 page views on my blog. Either somebody really likes me or somebody really hates me and is trying to find everything they can about me on my blog. Or, there were several new visitors to my blog that day. No matter what the case was, I got some interesting comments.
Some of you gave constructive criticism. Others had nothing nice to say. And some just plain did not understand my blog. Then there were some that were compliments. But of course, the rest of you just silently read and went on to whatever you were going to do next.
By breaking up my readers into 5 categories, I have a customized message for each one of you. Please read and be informed....
The Constructive Critics: I love you guys! You are what my blog needs and what I appreciate. Criticism usually hurts but when done constructively, it is vital to the survival of communication and especially blogging. I don't want to sound like a broken record (you can tell me to change the topic if I keep talking about DST or some other much-noted-upon topic) or if I let my mispelings go un-noticed (be my spell-check when blogger's spell-checker refuses to work -- which is more often than not) or when I fail to appreciate proper grammar (there ain't no way I'm gonna let my proper grammer just because we was careless). But, I don't understand the anonymity you often hide behind. If it makes you feel better, fine, select "anonymous" when you comment but really, I don't mind seeing your face once in awhile. I promise I won't bite!
Unfriendly Commenter's: Let me just tell you a little tip on etiquette my mother once taught me... "If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all." That has been a piece of advice that I have used over and over. And am using right now actually.
Unintentionally Uninformed Commenter's: (Shared both in blogger's comments and sometimes in person) You are the people that visit once and take everything I write seriously and then comment that I made no sense at all and that you think I need to re-think my thoughts on certain matters. You are the people that lack a sense of humor. So, because of you dear folks, I have been inspired. I am invoking change on my blog: the birth of a new disclaimer. Hopefully that will set you at ease and help you know that really, I am not seeking marriage counseling because of my husband's radio.
Friendly Commenter's: You guys are great and keep me informed as to who exactly my audience is. Thanks for all the contributions to the Q and A posts.
Silent Readers: You guys are great too. You keep my stat counter ticking and shocking me unexpectedly when it shoots up toward 1,000 in one day. Thanks for your contributions to my stat counter.
If you are a rare person and find yourself in none of the above categories, send me an email or comment here so I can better understand your breed of blog readers and can hopefully compose a customized message for you as well.
Some of you gave constructive criticism. Others had nothing nice to say. And some just plain did not understand my blog. Then there were some that were compliments. But of course, the rest of you just silently read and went on to whatever you were going to do next.
By breaking up my readers into 5 categories, I have a customized message for each one of you. Please read and be informed....
The Constructive Critics: I love you guys! You are what my blog needs and what I appreciate. Criticism usually hurts but when done constructively, it is vital to the survival of communication and especially blogging. I don't want to sound like a broken record (you can tell me to change the topic if I keep talking about DST or some other much-noted-upon topic) or if I let my mispelings go un-noticed (be my spell-check when blogger's spell-checker refuses to work -- which is more often than not) or when I fail to appreciate proper grammar (there ain't no way I'm gonna let my proper grammer just because we was careless). But, I don't understand the anonymity you often hide behind. If it makes you feel better, fine, select "anonymous" when you comment but really, I don't mind seeing your face once in awhile. I promise I won't bite!
Unfriendly Commenter's: Let me just tell you a little tip on etiquette my mother once taught me... "If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all." That has been a piece of advice that I have used over and over. And am using right now actually.
Unintentionally Uninformed Commenter's: (Shared both in blogger's comments and sometimes in person) You are the people that visit once and take everything I write seriously and then comment that I made no sense at all and that you think I need to re-think my thoughts on certain matters. You are the people that lack a sense of humor. So, because of you dear folks, I have been inspired. I am invoking change on my blog: the birth of a new disclaimer. Hopefully that will set you at ease and help you know that really, I am not seeking marriage counseling because of my husband's radio.
Friendly Commenter's: You guys are great and keep me informed as to who exactly my audience is. Thanks for all the contributions to the Q and A posts.
Silent Readers: You guys are great too. You keep my stat counter ticking and shocking me unexpectedly when it shoots up toward 1,000 in one day. Thanks for your contributions to my stat counter.
If you are a rare person and find yourself in none of the above categories, send me an email or comment here so I can better understand your breed of blog readers and can hopefully compose a customized message for you as well.
Monday, April 07, 2008
Absent From The Body...
but, present with the Lord.
A good friend and faithful reader is grieving the loss of her husband tonight. After a long and courageous battle with diabetes and other health complications, her husband moved on to his reward in heaven this morning.
There are other close family members (some are here and here) who also traffic my blog and comment and I just want to say to you loved ones as well that we are thinking of you and praying for you and are thankful for the hope that heaven has for us as believers in Jesus.
Goodbyes are hard and we send our condolences. May God be with the John Van Essen family.
A good friend and faithful reader is grieving the loss of her husband tonight. After a long and courageous battle with diabetes and other health complications, her husband moved on to his reward in heaven this morning.
There are other close family members (some are here and here) who also traffic my blog and comment and I just want to say to you loved ones as well that we are thinking of you and praying for you and are thankful for the hope that heaven has for us as believers in Jesus.
Goodbyes are hard and we send our condolences. May God be with the John Van Essen family.
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Recycled and Rehashed Rudiments Recomposed
You should get a cat like mine! ;-) Male, neutered, no roaming, no heat...perfect! :-)
That's a good idea. I'll take him.
I've always felt rather guilty for not liking dogs and cats--I mean it's about as mean and uncaring as you can get not to like a fluffy cat or something :)
I'd actually take a bug (up to a certain size) over a dog. Bizarre, I know.
Bizarre as that is, I can almost agree with you (but I still detest bugs). Don't feel guilty. I too hate cats.
Okay if it is okay for you to not like bugs then I can still hate frogs!!! I am so sure you know what my great sister did to me at Christmas. It is funny now but not at the moment. If you don't know just ask her I'm sure she would love to tell you.
I support your right to hate frogs. But, I also support my right to not hate frogs and your sister's right to do what she did on that fateful Christmas day. I loved that story. :)
This turned out to be a "bugable" blog. You may need to invest in some bug houses. We ARE getting into the buggier time of the year.
I agree with the first and last point you made in your comment but I strongly disagree with investing in bug houses. For one, that would not be an investment. For two, I would not invite a bug to live anywhere (he can find his own house). And for three, I do not want to own a house a bug is welcomed to live in. But, I do understand what you mean.
Notice your comment from Celular. It seems to come from Brazil.
I have an idea it's actually an automated advertising system that's apt to appear on your blog if your blog's Word Verification is not enabled. In one night alone about a year ago, I received over 230 such comments.
The opposite of "far-sighted" is "near-sighted", not "short-sighted". Although I was very flattered that you considered me intelligent enough to diagnose your eye condition from afar, without actually seeing you, I thought I'd better correct your misconception.
Thank you for enlightening me. I "see" your point now. Are you also saying that if you saw me, you'd be able to tell me whether or not I need glasses? If that's the case, I'm sure you're cheaper than an Opthamologist. I'll be right over.
As far as a time for "Everything under the sun," I think it still proves my point that DST wasn't invented by the time of the "publishing" of Ecclesiastes, as it wasn't listed, but I suppose there is a "time" to change the time. (or at least now there is)
The Preacher in Ecclesiastes was not referring to things that may happen under the sun somewhere in the near future unless you line that up with the verse that talks about "Evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse..." That's how we got DST. Somewhere in the future, they'll be making us change our clocks several times in one day... if we don't stop the waxing evil of the seducers.
What time did the alarm go off?
It was right around the time I wrote that blog -- around 7:30 - 8 in the morning. Since the happening of DST, most of my children are still enjoying sleep at that hour. (or is it me enjoying them sleeping???)
Pagers sound good. The expense of that would probably have to be taken out of some of your local taxes. Since it is done by volunteers, there would be a longer list of people who would volunteer than would be needed at any given fire. It would be costly.
Those are all very valid reasons and I'm sure probably applicable in our small town. Interestingly enough, the sirens went off the other day and no body responded: I inadvertently and unintentionally had a colleague staked out near the fire station just before the siren went off. They reported that no one single person responded to the call. Just think of all the small children that were awakened needlessly by the pointless alarm. It's a shame -- in more ways than one. (I hope the person that dialed 911 didn't really need help...)
One thing I learned: You can tell if there is a storm coming by watching the behavior of the kids. They get very restless and don't pay attention as well.
And then when they finally settle down and go to sleep, the siren goes off. I know that story well.
That's a good idea. I'll take him.
I've always felt rather guilty for not liking dogs and cats--I mean it's about as mean and uncaring as you can get not to like a fluffy cat or something :)
I'd actually take a bug (up to a certain size) over a dog. Bizarre, I know.
Bizarre as that is, I can almost agree with you (but I still detest bugs). Don't feel guilty. I too hate cats.
Okay if it is okay for you to not like bugs then I can still hate frogs!!! I am so sure you know what my great sister did to me at Christmas. It is funny now but not at the moment. If you don't know just ask her I'm sure she would love to tell you.
I support your right to hate frogs. But, I also support my right to not hate frogs and your sister's right to do what she did on that fateful Christmas day. I loved that story. :)
This turned out to be a "bugable" blog. You may need to invest in some bug houses. We ARE getting into the buggier time of the year.
I agree with the first and last point you made in your comment but I strongly disagree with investing in bug houses. For one, that would not be an investment. For two, I would not invite a bug to live anywhere (he can find his own house). And for three, I do not want to own a house a bug is welcomed to live in. But, I do understand what you mean.
Notice your comment from Celular. It seems to come from Brazil.
I have an idea it's actually an automated advertising system that's apt to appear on your blog if your blog's Word Verification is not enabled. In one night alone about a year ago, I received over 230 such comments.
The opposite of "far-sighted" is "near-sighted", not "short-sighted". Although I was very flattered that you considered me intelligent enough to diagnose your eye condition from afar, without actually seeing you, I thought I'd better correct your misconception.
Thank you for enlightening me. I "see" your point now. Are you also saying that if you saw me, you'd be able to tell me whether or not I need glasses? If that's the case, I'm sure you're cheaper than an Opthamologist. I'll be right over.
As far as a time for "Everything under the sun," I think it still proves my point that DST wasn't invented by the time of the "publishing" of Ecclesiastes, as it wasn't listed, but I suppose there is a "time" to change the time. (or at least now there is)
The Preacher in Ecclesiastes was not referring to things that may happen under the sun somewhere in the near future unless you line that up with the verse that talks about "Evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse..." That's how we got DST. Somewhere in the future, they'll be making us change our clocks several times in one day... if we don't stop the waxing evil of the seducers.
What time did the alarm go off?
It was right around the time I wrote that blog -- around 7:30 - 8 in the morning. Since the happening of DST, most of my children are still enjoying sleep at that hour. (or is it me enjoying them sleeping???)
Pagers sound good. The expense of that would probably have to be taken out of some of your local taxes. Since it is done by volunteers, there would be a longer list of people who would volunteer than would be needed at any given fire. It would be costly.
Those are all very valid reasons and I'm sure probably applicable in our small town. Interestingly enough, the sirens went off the other day and no body responded: I inadvertently and unintentionally had a colleague staked out near the fire station just before the siren went off. They reported that no one single person responded to the call. Just think of all the small children that were awakened needlessly by the pointless alarm. It's a shame -- in more ways than one. (I hope the person that dialed 911 didn't really need help...)
One thing I learned: You can tell if there is a storm coming by watching the behavior of the kids. They get very restless and don't pay attention as well.
And then when they finally settle down and go to sleep, the siren goes off. I know that story well.
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