Friends?

Thought for the day:  Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... it has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which gives value to survival. [C.S. Lewis]

[image from Morguefile]

When I was a young girl, a framed piece of embroidery hung on my bedroom wall, and it was comprised of a big sprawling tree, two people standing under it, and the words, Friendship is a sheltering tree.

And that's true, isn't it? Friends pull together and help shelter each other from the many storms in life, while doubling our joys and halving our sorrows. It may not be one big thing that binds us together, but rather, a million little things over the course of time.

 A friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your heart. [author unknown]

Looking back, I've been blessed with many wonderful friends, but since I started blogging, my concept of friendship has changed in ways I never would've thought possible. Now, some of the men and women I think of as friends... as people I genuinely care about... are people I've never actually met face-to-face. And probably never will.

YOU are very likely one of them.

Today, I was planning to do a blog post about something super cool Smarticus and I did on our anniversary, but my conscience pushed me in a different direction. While he and I were celebrating our 49th anniversary, another blogging author was grieving the death of her husband. I know who Lee is, but she probably doesn't know me from Adam, but still... I felt compelled to do something. 

So I'm going to do what many other bloggers and members of the IWSG have done. I'm going to tell you about her latest book, which was released just two days before her husband died. Needless to say, she can't bear the burden of promoting her book right now, but we, her fellow bloggers and writers, can. This can be our one little thing to show her we care. Our chance to be her sheltering tree.

Perhaps you'd like to mention her new book on your blog? Or some of her many other books? Maybe purchase one or two...? It may not be much, but it's... something.

Her books may be called juvenile fiction, but then... so are the Harry Potter books. I believe this is the third book of a trilogy, so I'm gonna have to start with book one. Care to join me?

Pete’s stuck in medieval England!

Pete and his friend Weasel thought they’d closed the Time Lock. But a young page from medieval times, Peter of Bramwell, goes missing. His absence during a critical moment will forever alter history unless he’s found.

There’s only one solution - fledgling wizard Pete must take the page’s place. Accompanied by Weasel and Fanon, Pete’s alligator familiar, they travel to 1173 England.

But what if the page remains lost - will Pete know what to do when the critical moment arrives? Toss in a grumpy Fanon, the duke’s curious niece, a talking horse, and the Circle of Stones and Pete realizes he’s in over his young wizard head yet again...

Barnes & Noble /Kobo /iTunes /Amazon /Kindle /Foyles /Goodreads / C Lee McKenzie Books

Release date – May 15, 2018

Juvenile Fiction - Fantasy & Magic/Boys & Men

$13.95 Print ISBN 9781939844460

$3.99 EBook ISBN 9781939844477

C. Lee McKenzie has a background in Linguistics and Inter-Cultural Communication, but these days her greatest passion is writing for young readers. When she’s not writing she’s hiking or traveling or practicing yoga or asking a lot questions about things she still doesn’t understand.

************************************************************************************************************

Seeing's as how this is June first, the window has closed for entries to receive an autographed copy of my new book Explosive Beginnings. I will announce the winner on next Wednesday's IWSG post. Good luck!

                                     Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

                                     Try to be a rainbow in someone's cloud.  [Maya Angelou]

Our Favorite Curmudgeon

Thought for the day:  A healthy attitude is contagious, but don't wait to catch it from somebody else. Be a carrier.

Mr. Pip

Feeling a little grumpy? Do blogfests, bloghops, and memes turn your smile upside-down?

Not this one. Nuh-uh. This one is a light-hearted anti-blogfest blogfest in honor of our favorite pretend curmudgeon. Gary isn't exactly a fan of blogfests, mind you, but that never stops him from promoting them, or from poking fun at them in his own inimitable way. In fact, this cheerful curmudgeon bends over backwards to promote and support other bloggers, in general. In other words, he's a real mensch.

So thanks to the Aloha kid Mark and his able cohorts Alex, Tina, Robyn, and Morgan, today's anti-blogfest blogfest is a shout-out and salute of appreciation for the lovable Gary. (Who only gets as grumpy as Mr. Pip on very rare occasions.) Here's to you, Gary!

So, what's the deal? To make up three PG-13 blogfests. You know, ridiculous stuff. Ones you'd never want to join in a million years. Fun stuff. Creative and imaginative, and a teensy bit outrageous.

Got it? Here's my three suggestions, along with a brief description of each:

The Forgettable Blogfest

Here's your opportunity to expound on the most forgettable person you've ever met, book you've ever read, and movie you've ever seen. The sky's the limit! The most forgettable... whatever!

Nope, this one's definitely not for me. At my age, I have enough trouble remembering the most memorable things; don't even expect me to remember the stuff I want to forget.

The Most Disgusting Thing I Ever Ate Blogfest

Test your ability to gross out your fellow bloggers. Did you ever chew on something while it was still moving? Eat unmentionable body parts? Nibble on something people could smell from three blocks away? Here's your chance to brag and complain about it.

I believe I'll have to sit this one out, too. I may have eaten something that would qualify for this fest, but if so, it's something I undoubtedly wanted to forget. And have. (My ability to forget knows no bounds.)

And finally, we have the (ta-DA!) Most Boring Day Blogfest

Go ahead. Tell us in great detail about that scintillating peanut butter sandwich you ate for lunch. Or about that hole in the toe of your favorite pair of socks— and how many stitches it took to close it. Again, the sky's the limit here, people. Nothing is too mundane or picayune to share. The blogging world eagerly awaits your riveting revelations about how many tries it took you to tie your shoe today, or how many times you smacked the snooze button before you finally rolled your lazy butt out of bed this morning.

Hmmm, I might have to pass on this one, too, even though my peanut butter sandwiches are quite delightful. (According to the sign in our kitchen, they're even famous. So what if I painted the darn sign myself... immaterial!) But the thing is, my life isn't boring; it's just one adventure after the other. (It's all in the attitude, ya know. With the proper attitude, even a peanut butter sandwich can be a sticky stepping stone to adventure.)

***************************

There ya have it. Ready to sign up for any of my riveting blogfests? No? Got a better idea? Go ahead. Sock it to me. Make Gary smile. And congratulations to you, Gary, for having a whole blogfest dedicated to you. I hope you're enjoying it. What? Not participating...? Oh. Crap.

                           Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

You Guys Light Up My Life

Thought for the day:  Even a small star shines in the darkness.

Pretty badge, huh? It's a blog award recently bestowed on me by the multi-talented Maryann Miller. If you haven't had the pleasure of meeting Maryann or of reading any of her many books, check out her blog... and her impressive listings on Amazon. You'll find quite a few books by this talented gal, whose career roles include journalist, award-winning short story writer, novelist, screenwriter, actress, and director. (And probably some others I've forgotten.) Plus, she's really sweet.

At any rate, I'm honored that this talented writer passed an award to ME. Thank you so much, Maryann. I really do appreciate it.

Okay, so the smart thing to do when receiving one of these awards is to follow the rules, right? They're quite simple:

1. Link back to and thank the blogger who nominated you. (Check!)
2. Post the badge on your blog. (Check!)
3. Answer the questions posed to you. (Wilco.)
4. Nominate five bloggers who shine a little light in your day, and notify them. (I'll do something close to that.)
5. Ask five questions to nominees. (Uh-huh. See #4.)

So here's Maryann's questions for me:

How long do you spend putting together a blog?

Too long. At the very least, an hour, but that's extremely rare. Most of the time, between researching for information, images, and quotations, and then compiling, writing, and editing, I take the better part of a day. Oftentimes longer.

What other writing do you do?

Now that you know how long it takes me to write most blogposts, you can imagine how much time I've put into writing a book. But in spite of myself and my incessant need to edit and improve, my long-suffering novel Hot Flashes and Cold Lemonade is about to be (ta-DA!) published. I've also had a short story and an article about amateur radio published in national magazines... and even got PAID for them! What a concept. I say that because most of my writing over the past forty-some years has been pro bono. Yeah, I know. I'm an idiot.

Do you blog because you like to, or because you were told you have to by a publisher?

Like many others, I started a blog because literary agents said I should, but I've continued blogging because I enjoy it. To be more precise, I enjoy the wonderful people and sense of community I've found in the blogosphere. (Who knew?)

What is a story your family liked to tell about you?

When I was in school, it was standard practice to observe a minute of silence on certain days of the year...

As a first grader, I sensed the solemnity inherent in standing quietly in honor of Pearl Harbor Day, but was too young to understand the day's significance. That evening, I sighed, and with tears in my eyes, said, "Poor Paul."  Natch, my parents wanted to know what I was talking about, to which I replied, "The Japanese dropped a bomb on his head today." 

When you visit another blog, do you promote it on social media?

No. When it comes to social media, I'm woefully... unsociable.

***

Okeydoke, here's the part where I'm supposed to select five of you to receive this award. Impossible. Really. How am I supposed to consider all of you, and then pick only five who shed a little light on my life? The truth is, you all do. Every single one of you.

So, here's what I'm gonna do. If you want to take this lovely blog award badge back to your blog and answer all five of my questions in a post, GO FOR IT... with my blessings, and sincere gratitude for how much your posts always brighten my day. OR, if you'd prefer, pick and choose a question or two, and use your comment to answer right here. Easy peasy, right?

Now, all we need are the five questions:

1. If you could possess any talent for a single day, what would it be?
2. If you could host any three people (living or dead) at a party, who would you invite?
3. What motivates you and makes you happy to be alive?
4. If you could deliver a speech to the world's political leaders, what would you talk about?
5. Are you a dog person, a cat person, or both? Mutt or purebred?

We all possess certain talents and gifts that are unique to only us. You already have everything that you need to start living an extraordinary life. It's up to you to turn the switch and let your light shine.  [Randa Mannin-Johnson]

                                Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

   

                                    Burn brightly without burning out. [Richard Biggs]

                                [Images courtesy of icanhascheezburger.com and seniorark]

Don't forget! During the month of May, every comment you leave here will earn you another shot at winning a FREE autographed copy of Hot Flashes & Cold Lemonade. And hey! If you mention my book on your blog, that'll earn you another two chances. 

Allow Me to Introduce Myself

Thought for the day: Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, "What! You too? I thought I was the only one.  [C.S. Lewis]

Dontcha hate gatherings where you know so few people in the room, you have to stick a tag on your shirt that says, My name is...? 

Yeah, me too.

But this is different. This is an opportunity to learn a little something about other bloggers from the safety and comfort of your own home, and you don't have to wear a name tag, or sip a cup of icky-sweet punch or nibble on a handful of salted peanuts. Well, of course, you can do all those things if you want to, but it's totally optional. Enough babbling; let me toss a quick thank you to our hosts for coming up with this getting to know you kinda blogfest, and then get on with it. (Thanks, Stephen, Mark, Elise, and Carolyn!)

Speaking of which, how about listening to a little Getting to Know You music while you read the rest of this post? You know, to put you in the mood? It's SHORT... just like the rest of this post will be.

Okeydoke. My name is Susan, and I'm a creative nerd, guitar-playing, oil-painting amateur radio operator, information junkie, incredibly soft touch volunteer, and word addict with a warped sense of humor and predilection for bad puns. This blog started with the notion of establishing a platform for my writing aspirations, but it's become so much more than that. Like amateur radio, it's yet another window on the world, and another avenue to make friends. It's about community and connections. Bill Husted, a journalist and amateur radio operator, once wrote in his column, In the amateur radio fraternity, there are no strangers. That's very true. And more and more, that's how I feel about blogging, too.

It's very nice to meetcha. Care for some punch and peanuts?

                                  Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

Lucky Ducks and Princesses

Thought for the day:  Success is simply a matter of luck. Ask any failure.  [Earl Wilson]

Man, I'm really a lucky duck. Nope, not talking about my manuscript finally being in the hands of a publishing company. (Heck, I realize that could just as well lead to a suck-y outcome as a lucky one.) Haven't successfully drawn to any inside straights lately, either. Or won the lottery.

But WOW! The blogosphere sure has been good to me. You know, those little "contests" bloggers hold from time to time? I've lucked out on a bunch of 'em.

Started out on the lovely Delores' blog. All it took was writing a silly limerick to win several bags of candy. (Really GOOD candy.) I'd show it to you, but I, um, ate it.

On the talented Marcy's blog, I won a hand-made bookmark, and a free critique of one of my book chapters. Cool, huh? Didn't even have to DO anything for them, other than to show up and leave a comment. Ditto a win on super author Jennifer Shirk's blog, where I won a copy of Carolyn Brown's newest release, One Hot Cowboy Wedding. Won another book, too, but shame on me, I can't even remember which blog that one came from. It's a YA novel, entitled Wicked Lovely, by Melissa Marr.

See that spiffy towel hanging on the side of our fridge? Won that on the artsy-craftsy, oh-so-sweet Mare's blog by identifying a bunch of pictures. (Well, actually, another luck of the draw. Really easy pics to ID.) 

Isn't it pretty? She even made it to match our kitchen.




Linda Grimes is one of my favorite bloggers. She signed up as a follower right after I showed up on the scene. Didn't know me from Adam, (or Eve) but she immediately welcomed me to blogging, and has been a regular visitor and commenter ever since. She's also an awesome writer with a kick-butt sense of humor. Her first book will be released in a couple months. (YAY!) I'm really looking forward to getting her ARC in the mail so I can get a sneak preview. (YAY, again!) Every Friday, Linda also does a post for The Debutante Ball and since I'm such a fan of Linda's, I always follow her over there. Well, just because I filed a comment on that blog, I earned lucky duck status once again by winning a copy of another deb's book, which was just released last month.

And THAT'S what I want to tell you about. THAT book. That AMAZING book...

Molly Backes sent me a (hardback!) (signed!) copy of her book, which kinda impressed me from the get-go. But to tell the truth, I wasn't sure how well I'd be able to relate to her characters or to her story. I mean, high school students? C'mon, it's been a looooooong time since I was in high school. Besides, I sure wasn't a princess in high school. Far from it. I was a nerd. A goody-two-shoes. No smoking or drinking. No wild parties. No sex or drugs. Heck, I didn't even cuss. How could I possibly relate to a tale about a group of students who do all those things?

Boy, was I wrong.

You can close your eyes to the things you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel.  [author unknown]

And this book definitely makes you FEEL.


Molly does a phenomenal job of drawing readers into the angst-filled, insecure world of teenagers. Every word, every cringe-worthy worry and bout of silliness explode with a purity of truth. Out-of-control parental pressures... the terrible consequences of underage drinking (and driving)... racism... homophobic prejudices and injustices... and the age-old story of teenagers trying to find themselves and their true paths. Molly covers all of this and more, and in a masterful, sensitive way. It's no surprise that this lovely lady teaches teens. She obviously understands them, and is tuned into the troubling issues that unite them, and the different cliques that separate them.

Not since The Catcher in the Rye have I read a book that does such an outstanding job of baring the souls of teenagers. This is NOT just a book for teenagers. I'll certainly recommend it to my grandchildren, but this book, my friends, is for ALL ages.

I definitely rate this book FIVE STARS.

(Or... maybe FOUR LUCKY LEGS up?)

                                                                   Ducks are lucky,

                                                                   Don't you think?

                                                                   When they want to

                                                                   Take a drink,

                                                                   All they do is 

                                                                   Duck their bill.

                                                                  (Doesn't matter

                                                                   If they spill.)

                                                                   When they want to

                                                                   Take a swim,

                                                                  All they do is

                                                                   Dive right in;

                                                                  And they never

                                                                  Seem to sink.

                                                                  Ducks are lucky,

                                                                  Don't you think?

    

                                                             [ Mary Ann Huberman]

Behold the duck

It does not cluck.

A cluck it lacks.

It quacks.

It is specially fond

of a puddle or pond. 

When it dines or sups,

It bottoms up.[Ogden Nash]



Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. Bottoms up! Hmmm, maybe this lucky duck oughta  go buy a lottery ticket...

Lazy Days and Ducklings

Thought for the day:  Why waste six days while waiting to celebrate the seventh? TGI Fridays isn't only open one day a week.   

Yesterday, my husband and I took a walk at Jones Bridge Park. Usually, activity at this bustling park is  concentrated around the soccer fields, playgrounds and wide-open spaces, but yesterday, few people braved those sun-baked areas. Instead, most chose to congregate beneath the shade trees and pavilions,  where their grills filled the air with the enticing aromas of Oriental and Hispanic cooking, as well as good ol' American hot dogs and hamburgers. And more than we've ever seen before, people were beside ... and in ... the river.

The Chattahoochee fairly races past this park, bubbling over and around large boulders, dancing in mesmerizing eddies and then resting in small still pools. It's not unusual to see someone sitting out on one of those big rocks, watching the water and the world go by, or to see a couple rafts or kayaks maneuvering around them. It also isn't unusual to see one or two hip boot-wearing trout fishermen in the water, flicking their lines. And year round, no matter how cold or how hot it is, this place is normally a fowl-filled haven for ducks and Canadian geese galore.

But not yesterday. Yesterday, the bone-chilling  river was positively teeming with people. Kids playing under the watchful eyes of their parents. Couples sun-bathing on the rocks. At least a dozen fisherman. One couple encouraging their poor shivering pup to swim. It was the most people I've ever seen in the water there at one time. And, undoubtedly not incidental, the fewest fowl.

There were no geese at all, only a handful of ducks, and one adorable duckling. But let me tell you, that little duckling was one big peeper. As though he were singing, that little guy would swim around, peeping his little heart out, the vision of happy. Then, he'd evidently cross some invisible line, known only to his mother, and she'd go after him. While she poked at him with her bill and quacked at him, his peeps would take on a different tone, but once she left him to his own devices, he went back to his happy song again.

Reminded me of bloggers.

As long as Blogger works well for us, we're happy little ducklings. And then something goes wrong. Something doesn't work right. We have trouble posting images, or can't make comments, or can't even access our own blog. It's as though we cross some invisible line, known only to Blogger, and while we're having problems with it, our happy-happy-joy-joy-I-love-Blogger tune changes. Just like that little duck.

I've managed to overcome (knock on wood) the problems I was having with Blogger, so now I'm doing swimmingly again, and peeping a happy tune. Since I know some of you have been having problems, too, I thought I'd make like the mama duck and give y'all a gentle nudge in the right direction.

If you haven't already done it, I'd highly encourage you to install  Google's

It's free, it's easy to install, and it works seamlessly with Blogger. Once I installed it, my problems with posting images became a thing of the past. However, even after switching to Chrome, I still had one lingering problem that was about to drive me nuts. I was having trouble posting comments on my own blog. Instead of showing the normal prompt signal, the only thing it would give me was a silly little dot or squiggle, and trying to type anything into the comment box only resulted in more of those dots and squiggles. Frustrating, right? Somebody's kind enough to leave a comment on your blog, and you can't respond at first attempt ... or second ... or tenth. Then I stumbled upon the solution. Now, I have no earthly idea why this works for me, but it does. Now, if I get that tiny little mark instead of the proper prompt, I simply click in the comment box on an earlier post. For whatever reason, the older comment box yields the correct prompt. Once I get that, I can go back to the newer post, and proceed without a problem. And I'm a happy little duckling once again.

How about you? Have you found solutions to your problems with Blogger? And by the way, how do you track the statistics, like what searches lead people to your blog? For those of us (ahem ...like  ME) who haven't quite figured it out, please ... do tell!

Tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to visit a local writers' group. I have no idea how many people attend, or what to expect, but I'm looking forward to it, nonetheless. And I'll tell you all about it on Wednesday.

Until then, take care of yourselves. And each other.

one cool chick

Picture That!

Thought for the day: If you don't pay your exorcist, you may get repossessed.

By George, I think I've got it! 

So far, so good. Looks like I may have exorcised the problem I was having with Blogger refusing to save or publish images. On the other hand, if you don't see a picture here of me scratching my chinny chinny chin, maybe I DIDN'T, in which case, I believe I'll go do something lots more fun like clean out the commodes.

For now, though, I'll assume that the picture is gonna hang around, and just in case you encounter a similar problem, (and I sincerely hope you don't) I thought I'd share what (I hope) proves to be the solution for me.

Experimenting with other templates didn't make a difference, so I began reconsidering my use of Internet Explorer. When the Google techs suggested that IE was a possible source of the problem, I initially dismissed that as unlikely. After all, I'd been using IE since day one, so why should a new problem emerge on something that hadn't changed? Right?


But upon further investigation, it appeared that most of the bloggers complaining about the problem were, indeed,  IE users, and many of them reported the problem's onset about the same time it started kicking me in the keister.

HMMMM.

Then it hit me. My PC is configured to allow Windows to automatically install updates. Ah HA! So it became more conceivable that one of those automatic updates could've changed IE such that it no longer plays well with Blogger.

So I installed Google Chrome, and so far, so good. Let's hope that's the end of that problem.

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Dunno about that, but I sure will be grateful if I can regularly add a picture or two to this blog again.

I smell something special.

Know what this week is? Something special, if you're a dog ... or a cat ... or some other well-loved pampered critter. Go get the balloons and ice cream: it's National Pet Week!

Now, I could darned near fill up Noah's Ark with the number of pets I've had in my lifetime, but I reckon I'm a bit of a slacker when it comes to celebrating them. Love 'em? Yeah, no doubt. But throw them parties? Invite dozens of their "friends" to the house for a play date?  For the love of God, put clothes on them? Ah, NO! 'Fraid not.

April 17 was National Pet Parents Day, and there were even American Greeting e-cards available to mark the occasion. Miss that one? Yeah, me too. But statistics show that approximately 10,000 cards WERE sent to mark the occasion.

Yesterday was "Bark in the Park" day at Atlanta's Turner Field, and for the paltry sum of twenty-five bucks, you could take your favorite canine pal into the park with you to watch the Braves play. Now, I've had a lot of dogs before, but I don't recollect any of them having much of an interest in baseball. Only interest they ever had in a ball of any kind was if you were throwing it to them and taking the slobbery thing away from them when they brought it back. Sweltering in the hot sun at the stadium never would've appealed to my dogs. Doesn't even appeal much to ME anymore. Not when I have a perfectly good air conditioner at home. 'Course, although it's still early in the season, one could argue that the Braves games have been pretty much "for the dogs" so far this year, so maybe it's only fitting that the stadium hosted a bunch of panting slobbering fans yesterday.

But this, THIS takes the cake (and ice cream):  would you believe a "puppy prom"? That's right, in March,  a PROM was held for canines in the Atlanta area. With an "Almost Paradise" theme, a king and queen, ball gowns, bow ties, beach-style decorations, a sheet cake, and ice cream treats! Oh, no, no, no! My dogs would NEVER have passed muster at a prom. They were much too rude. Fancy clothes or not, if they had the urge to scratch or lick their private places, they would never have been dissuaded by a silly bow tie.

I don't know. Maybe it's just me. OK, I will admit that when our pooches weren't feeling well, I may have prepared them ground beef and rice. And when I was a kid, my mother may have made a tiny raincoat and boots for our adorable little toy manchester / chihuahua cutie. And yeah, my husband swears that I can turn any attack dog into an egg-sucking wussy that'll follow me around like Mary's little lamb. (Why have 'em if you don't love 'em, right?) But I have NEVER gone to a dog bakery. Or thrown a pooch party. Or dressed my poor dogs in Halloween costumes.

How about you? Are you into "pet-ebrations"?

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. If the pictures in this post publish, you can color me happy. Tra-la-la-la!

Let's Dance!

Thought for the day: It's hard to beat a hard boiled egg in the morning.

"Would you believe I broke it skydiving? Would you believe mountain climbing? How about running from an angry lion while on safari?"

It was a little embarrassing to admit that I'd broken my foot by doing something as mundane, by doing something as stupid, as running into the leg of my son's bed. Hit that sucker with enough speed and force to darned near launch a 50-yard field goal, too. Not the smartest thing I'd ever done, but unfortunately, not the stupidest, either.

That was more than thirty years ago, but each time someone asked how it happened,  I'd go through my silly would you believe routine before admitting what I'd actually done. Now, I could make up some interesting would you believe story about why I didn't post anything on this blog yesterday, too, but the truth is actually pretty interesting.

The truth is, I was gorging myself at a smorgasbord. Really. I was like Oliver Twist, staring wide-eyed down an endless table of delights, holding out my bowl, and begging for more. 

Only it wasn't food. It was blogs.

I sat down at the computer yesterday morning, fully intending to write a little something-something before heading out to run some errands, but I took a teensy little detour, and got hopelessly lost. You know how it goes. I was just going to do a quick check on a couple of my favorite blogs, and maybe leave a comment or two, but what can I say? One thing led to another. Next thing I knew, I was meandering through an amazing maze, going from one link to another to another to another. You know, click on a commenter's icon to read  his profile. Then take a look at his blog, and while I'm there, why not look through the archives? And oooh, look at all of the blogs he recommended! Might as well check out some of them, too.

A waste of time? I dunno; I enjoyed it. One thing I learned is that there are a bazillion fabulous blogs out there. A virtual smorgasbord, and considering the endless variety of choices that are available, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for stopping by here to sample my humble offering of yams. And an even bigger thanks to my followers. You guys definitely put a smile on my face.

Do you remember Shirley Temple?

She was an amazing child star, and the absolute epitome of golly-gee-whiz cuteness, with her bouncy blonde curls, chubby cheeks and deep dimples. In the 50s, after she was already a grown woman, my friends and I were still watching her old movies, still watching her sing and tap dance across our tiny TV sets. Most of my friends hated her, but me? I wanted to BE her.

How I longed for my limp straight-as-a-stick hair to magically turn into those bouncy sausage curls. How I longed to sing those sweet songs as sweetly as she. And, oh! How I longed to tap dance!

In reality, my hair was worn in one of two styles, and I use the term loosely. Either it was straight and looked like Prince Valiant's do, which can be approximated by sticking a mixing bowl on your head and cutting around it, or it was tortured into a Little Orphan Annie frizz by virtue of a smelly home permanent. No sausage curls for me, bouncy or otherwise.

The singing I did okay. Never American Idol quality, but I could carry a tune. But dance? I could make my way around the neighborhood by walking strictly on top of the chain link fences, could climb the tallest trees, and could ride my bicycle down the multi-flights of concrete stairs by the elementary school without quite killing myself, but let's just say that I was never the most graceful kid on the block. I had two over-sized left feet, and my favorite aunt called me Lurch.

But one magical day, during one of our huge extended family gatherings, I made an amazing discovery in the shadows behind my uncle's cellar steps.

It was a bee-yoo-ti-ful  pair of sparkly red shoes. My cousin's long-forgotten tap shoes.

It took me quite a while to squeeze my feet into those tiny shoes. But I did it, and then in the shadows behind the cellar steps, I began to dance. Not sure it would've qualified as anything close to tap dancing, though. It was more like a Snoopy happy dance. If Snoopy had his feet shoved into shoes that were two sizes too small. Then, of course, I had to sing...  "On the Good Ship Lollipop".

I was having a grand ol' pinch-toed time until some of my relatives found me. And laughed. Laughed until they almost wet themselves. (Did I happen to mention that my relatives were terribly rude?) Nah, it was all in fun, and once my mother helped pry my poor feet out of those shoes, the family continued to tease me about that adventure for many years to come.

Now, here I am again. Kinda hiding in the shadows behind the cellar steps, I started writing this blog a couple weeks ago. And little by little, people are starting to wander by. But I gotta tell ya, what's really fun about a blog is when it becomes a participatory thing. When you guys don't just watch, but strap on a pair of tap shoes and join the dance.

All you have to do is set up an account at  http://www.blogger.com/. You can add a profile if you'd like, but it isn't mandatory. Then once you have that account, you can work from there to leave comments on blogs, or even sign up as a follower.

So, come join me. I promise not to make you sing.

How about you? Who did YOU want to be when you were a kid? Besides Shirley Temple, I also wanted to be Dale Evans. That didn't work out so hot, either. I remember going horseback riding one time, and carrying a nice apple to feed my horse. Poor ol' thing didn't have a tooth in her head. Not positive, but I'm pretty sure Dale Evans' Buttercup had teeth.

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other.

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No trees were killed in the sending of this message. However, a large number of electrons were terribly inconvenienced.
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In Search of a Rainbow

Thought for the day: If you want to see a rainbow, you have to put up with some rain.

It seems that managing a website, even one as "simple" as blogger, is not my best bag. For eight years, I supported a wonderful amateur radio website, but all I had to do then, besides pay for the hosting and domain of the thing, was provide input to our three fabulous webmasters and PRESTO! they did some kind of mysterious voodoo with it and BAM!  posted it just like THAT! (And let me tell ya, they really made it look G-O-O-D, too.)

Now, here I am, floundering in a sink-or-swim situation, and to tell the truth, my swimming capabilities never were all that hot, and I still don't know what the heck I'm doing with this blog. Honest, it really wasn't my intention for the header and header picture for this blog to take up a whole darned screen, but shrinking it down to a more reasonable size has eluded my meager capabilities so far. Still haven't figured out how to add more than one picture to a blogpost yet, either. And alas and alack, maybe I DO need to change the title to a more "original" one, after all.

But hey, I'm still a newbie, right? This blog is only a week old, so I'm bound to get better. One can only hope. (On the other hand, I could always learn to love a full-screen header ...!)  In the meantime, I'll just keep on plugging. I don't expect to find a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, but I WOULD like to make it to the rainbow. For now, though, I reckon I'll just have to put up with the rain. And that's just fine. I have two handy-dandy yellow rain hats.

So, no time to be discouraged, right? Sure, this whole blogging thing is a little outside of my usual comfort zone, but it's time to expand something other than my girth. By George, I WILL get it! I WILL reach the rainbow! But just so ya know, I'm not ready to jump into Facebook or Twitter just yet. I'm not ready to "tweet" yet. However, I may "toot" now and then, especially after I eat some of my husband's sugar-free cookies.

Until next time, take care of yourselves. And each other. I believe I'll take a nap.