Inspired by Happiness

Thought for the day:  When I was five years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down "happy." They told me I didn't understand the assignment, and I told them they didn't understand life.  [John Lennon}

[wikipedia]

John Lennon certainly couldn't have said the former King of Bhutan didn't understand life. That's the king's quote about Gross National Happiness there to the left. Pretty astounding, isn't it? And in that beautiful Himalayan country, the last Buddhist kingdom in the world, happiness is still the measure of success. Dontcha love it?

I first heard about Bhutan's
 happiness quotient from some amateur radio friends who visited there on a DX-pedition, and then gave numerous presentations about their experiences when they returned to the States. I found the attitude about happiness to be inspirational when they first told us about it, and I still do. How deliciously ironic, then, that a Bhutanese blogger recently gave ME a blogging award... for being inspirational. (He obviously missed some of my posts... HA!) Allow me to introduce you to this fine, obviously discerning (HA!) young man.  Dumcho is a thoughtful, intelligent... and I dare say, happy... physics teacher, and I'll bet he'd love it if y'all would visit his blog and say hello. Again, thank you, Dumcho. I really do appreciate it.

I only have to fulfill a few requirements. Show the award to y'all. (Check!) Notify the person who gave it to me. (Check!) Tell you guys seven things about myself. (Wilco, in just a sec.) And finally, nominate, link, and notify fifteen other bloggers.

Um, I'm gonna stray from the last requirement. I already know how an awful lot of you feel about blogging awards, so I won't put any of you in the position of refusing yet another one. Besides, how in the world could I possibly limit the very inspiring description to only fifteen of you? Impossible! In your own way, each of you inspire me. So let's do it this way. If you're willing to accept this award, and wanta do a post about it, go for it! If you'd rather not, I understand, but waaaait a second: you don't get off that easily. How about telling me at least one new thing about yourself in the comments? Please? (It'd make me happy...)

                                        Almost as happy as this awesomely  happy Bhutan video

Okay, stop tapping your toes now. It's time to learn seven fun facts about me. Ready?

[morguefile]

1.  The poor widdle wasp was helplessly trapped in a mud puddle, alive, but just barely; and his movements, feeble and ineffective. So I did what seemed like a great idea to my 8-year-old mind. Scooped him out of the water, cradled him in the palm of my hand, and gently blew on him to dry his fragile wings. Worked, too. Before he flew away, I'd like to say he thanked me somehow. I'd like to say he did an intricate little butt-wiggling wasp dance just for me, but he actually did exactly what wasps are wont to do. The little ingrate stung me. It didn't make me regret helping him, but it did teach me a valuable lesson: Do whatever good you can in life, but be prepared to receive the occasional sting.

[morguefile]

2. A friend and I broke my parents' bed by jumping on it. She (the chicken!) headed for the back door, and I headed to the basement to find some nails. The monsters I hammered into that bed frame were four inches long or better, and I used a mess of them, too. Fixed that bed but good. At least, that's what I thought. In the middle of the night, a loud KABOOM came from my parents' bedroom. When the cursing started, I didn't exactly wet myself, but I did lay in my bed with eyes wide and heart pounding, saying my we-who-are-to-die prayers. But ...  nothing happened. Even when they discovered those ridiculously over-sized nails, they never ever suspected me. Years later, I finally told them the truth. I was married, had a kid, and figured the statute of limitations should have me in the clear by then. Besides, I was moving seven hundred miles away the next day.

3. For our high school drama class, two friends and I performed You Gotta Get a Gimmick. Once. When we told our teacher what we were planning, he asked us to do our routine for him after school. So our one and only audience was Mr. Adams and a small handful of fellow students. We got an enthusiastic response, but our teacher decided it wasn't appropriate for us to do. Too bad. We were reeeeeally funny. Not familiar with this song? It's from the Broadway musical Gypsy. (I was the gal who "did it with a switch.")

Youtube videos are being difficult, so here's another link:  You Gotta Have a Gimmick...

4. The first time I flew in an airplane was a flight all the way from Baltimore to Chicago to Honolulu. After we left Chicago, the plane got caught in such horrific turbulence, it felt like we were on an airborne roller coaster ride or free-falling elevator. How bad was it? Even one of the stewardesses was barfing. Me? I kept crocheting. Because I had no point of reference, I didn't realize the flight was so awful. Besides, Smarticus had been in Vietnam for nine months at that point, and we were meeting for R&R. Short of the plane falling apart, it was all good to me.

[morguefile]

5.. I used to be an avid bowler, and at one time, bowled on three leagues every week, two handicapped, and one scratch. Best game I ever rolled was a 261, but I blew the game by opening in the tenth frame. Only needed a mediocre score in the third game that night to break my first 600 series, but I didn't do it. Barely managed to break a hundred. That's me ...  Mrs. Consistent. One interesting lesson I gleaned from bowling, though. My average was always higher in the scratch league than it was in the handicapped ones. Perhaps it's human nature to rise to the level of one's competition? Or maybe if we expect more of ourselves, we're more likely to deliver.

6. For my fortieth birthday, a bunch of our fabulous friends pooled their money to treat me to a glamour make-over with Liz Claibourne. Yeah, I know, right? What awesome friends! Anyway, this make-over included a hair cut and style, massage, manicure, facial and make-up, the whole works. Even got a fancy schmancy lunch, complete with a flower and glass of wine. Talk about pampered! When the overhaul was complete, I barely recognized myself. The areas above my eyes and upper lip were blood red and sore as all get-out, thanks to the oh-so-delightful waxing Ms. Claibourne recommended. (Never, never, NEVER again!) Looked like the make-up had been smeared on with a trowel, but hey! It was different! The hairdo was a bit fussier than my usual  run-a-comb-through-it-and-go style, and it was as stiff and hard as a motorcycle helmet. But again, different. Before I left, the people who'd worked so hard on me all day wanted to know where I was going that night to show off my new look. To tell the truth, I'm not sure they believed me, but what can I say? It was bowling night.

[morguefile]

 7.  We went to the horse races once. It was at Timonium, Maryland, and the we was my husband, parents, mother-in-law, aunt, cousin, two sons, and me. Through sheer dumb luck, I won enough cash to cover food and drinks for all of us, with money to spare. I actually picked the first place horses for all three races in the trifecta, too, but didn't know enough to bet them all at once. I made each bet individually. Had I bet them all at the same time, I would've won a ton of money. Because I kept picking winners, my father bet my pick in one of the races. The horse came in dead last.



There ya have it. Not terribly inspiring, I'm afraid, but I hope you enjoyed them, nonetheless. Tell ya what. I'll even throw in a bonus fun fact. (shhhhh) Smarticus had to marry me, because he lost a game of pool with my father. True story. The deal was, the loser had to keep me. (Real flattering, right?)  I can only hope my dear husband, after running the table, intentionally blew his shot on the eight ball...

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

NOTE: The header picture, which comes from good ol' Morguefile, depicts some prayer flags found in Bhutan.

The fact that I can plant a seed and it becomes a flower, share a bit of knowledge and it becomes another's, smile at someone and receive a smile in return, are to me continual spiritual exercises. [Leo Buscaglia]

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

Learn from the mistakes of others. You can never live long enough to make them all yourself.  [Groucho Marx]

[morguefile]

Let Me Entertain You

Thought for the day:  I am neither especially clever nor especially gifted. I am only very, very curious.  [Albert Einstein]

The lovely (and irresistibly sweet) Austan of Austanspace passed this spiffy award on to yours truly, and the object is for me to tell you seven things about me that you don't already know, and then pass the award on to some of my other favorite bloggers.

Hmmm, after doing this sort of thing multiple times before, it's getting harder to come up with something new to tell you guys, but we'll give it a go.

1.  At our wedding reception, I took a teensy sip of champagne to acknowledge the toast, and then quietly traded it in for a glass of milk.

2. On our honeymoon, the man running the chair lift at the Natural Bridge (VA) thought I was my husband's youngun. 

3. When we were in third grade, a friend and I sang a sappy rendition of Over the Rainbow for an elementary school talent show.









4. For our high school drama class, two friends and I performed You Gotta Get a Gimmick. Once. When we told our teacher what we were planning, he asked us to do our routine for him after school. So our one and only audience was Mr. Adams and a small handful of fellow students. We got an enthusiastic response, but our teacher decided it wasn't appropriate for us to do. Too bad. We were reeeeeally funny. Not familiar with this song? It's from the Broadway musical Gypsy. (I was the one who "did it with a switch.")

5. The first time I ever flew in an airplane was a long, long flight from Baltimore to Chicago to Honolulu. After we left Chicago, the plane got caught in horrific turbulence, and at times, it felt like we were on an airborne roller coaster ride or free-falling elevator. How bad was it? Even one of the stewardesses was barfing. Me? I kept crocheting. Because I had no point of reference, I didn't realize the flight was so awful.

6.  I'd been pretty sick for several days, but my appendix decided to  burst after my husband and I went to bed one night. I lay there in the dark quietly panting, as though I were in labor, but once it burst, the pain level went down dramatically, so I went to sleep. (Or passed out? Not sure.) But I didn't want to bother my husband by waking him. And didn't go to the hospital for several more days. (By then, I was turning a peculiar shade of green.) Pretty dumb, huh?

 7.  We went to the horse races once. It was at Timonium, Maryland, and the we was my husband, parents, mother-in-law, aunt, two sons, and me. Through sheer dumb luck, I won enough cash to cover food and drinks for all of us, with money to spare. I actually picked the first place horses for the trifecta, too, but didn't know enough to bet them all at once. I made each bet individually. Had I bet them all at the same time, I would've won a ton of money. Because I kept picking winners, my father bet my pick in one of the races. The horse came in dead last.


So, there ya have it.

Now, I'm supposed to pass the award on to seven other bloggers. My track record here hasn't been nearly as good as it was at Timonium. Rarely do the people I pick care to follow through. That's fine. I'm not gonna worry about it. What I'm gonna do is select blogs I haven't already tapped in the past. These are all blogs I thoroughly enjoy, so if nothing else, maybe the rest of you will check them out. And better yet, maybe these folks will participate, and I'll learn a little more about them. Here we go :

• Geo at Train Ride of the Enigmas 
• Pearl at Pearl, Why You Little ... 
• Mr. C at Termites of Sin
• Cro at Magnon's Meanderings
• Murr at Murrmurrs
• Paige at There's More Where That Came From
• Beach Bum at The Life and Times of a Carolina Parrothead

One last thing. In case looking at that picture of strawberry pie has got you craving some, here's a super good (and super easy) recipe for you to try. Guaranteed to please.


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

Pole Dance, Anyone?

Thought for the day:  You can learn a lot about a person by the way he handles an unexpected detour.

Now that we're back home from our road trip and settled in again, I reckon it's time to come up with a regular post, huh? I must confess, to make sure I got them done, I wrote the Veterans Day post and LST 325  posts weeks ago, so this is the first gotta come up with somethin' post in quite some time.

As luck has it, a couple of you already provided me with what I need to get my blogging engine started again.

The lovely Marcy of Maine Words kindly shared the Versatile Blogger award with me shortly before my hubby and I took off for Florida.

As a recipient of this award, I'm supposed to reveal seven random tidbits of information about myself, and then pass the award to seven other bloggers I admire. Not sure if I can dig up seven things of interest about myself ... OR limit myself to only seven bloggers I admire ... but I'll give it a shot. Thanks, Marcy.

Also, the lovely Julie of What Else is Possible? shared another thingie with me that's going around the blogosphere.

 It isn't exactly an award; it's more of a nudge to get bloggers to reveal themselves. Wait a sec. Maybe that wasn't the best way to explain it. Not reveal as in rip off clothing, wiggle one's derriere, and slither around a pole, but reveal as in tell a little something about oneself. Actually, ten somethings. So, I'm gonna take the liberty of combining this with the Versatile Blogger award, and tell you a total of ten deep dark secrets, and call it a day. (And sorry ... they're neither deep nor dark.)

• Since the thought for the day is about unexpected detours, I'll start with that. Being a directionally challenged person, and the daughter of parents who were even more talented than I at getting lost, we always stuck our tongues firmly in cheeks and referred to the experience as taking the scenic route. And, to tell the truth, as long as said detours don't make me late for a commitment, I actually like 'em. They've led to some pretty interesting sights, and to some pretty interesting people. Besides, who's to say? Our true destinies may lie in the detours. 
• I don't give a diddle about diamonds and gold. I prefer wood and leather.
• I always work the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle in ink. (Erasable, of course.)
• When I was eleven years old, I inherited two glass powder boxes that had been sitting on my maternal grandmother's dressing table for a bazillion years ... a clear one with an elephant lid, and an amber one with a deer on the lid. Years later, my son accidentally broke one. Fast forward another twenty years or so, and Eureka! Doggone if I didn't spot the broken deer's duplicate at an antique store. (And immediately started crying.) Thankfully, the shop owner didn't take advantage of the tearful situation, and charged a fair price, because there was no way I was leaving that store without it. After that, my hubby, mother, mother-in-law, and a couple aunts turned me into a powder box collector. Now, thanks to their loving generosity, I have quite a few of them, and some are quite beautiful and unique. But (shhhh) I'll tell you a secret: I would've been perfectly happy with the two. They're the ones sitting on the top shelf in the picture below.

• I love playing most board games, with the exception of Monopoly. Loathe that game! As luck(?) would have it, whenever our family plays that vile game, I'm always the first one eliminated. (Oh, darn! Breaks my heart!) Then I sit back with a cup of tea, and read the newspaper, which is exactly what I wanted to do in the first place.
•  What can I say? I like to win. So I tend to be a tad too competitive, especially when playing trivia, word games, or cards. In particular, I used to be a cut-throat Pinochle player. My husband, on the other hand, never even played Pinochle until after we got married, and never gave a good diddle about it, or any other game. Still doesn't. Which is a good thing, because his nonchalant attitude tempered my card-counting bloodthirsty ways. (It's just a game, Susan; it's just a game.)
• Most of the things I consider treasures have little or no monetary value. Like this tiny teacup in the picture below. I found it in my father's house after he died, and it's the last piece from the set of dishes I owned when I was four or five years old.

• My parents had a pool table in their basement, so I started playing while I was still in elementary school. Being rather competitive even then, I got to be pretty darned good. Could even do a trick shot or two. On my first evening at college, a couple hometown boys, who were big bad jocks in high school, invited my roommate and me to go to the student union with them. Seems they wanted to teach us non-jock nerdy girls how to shoot pool. (heh, heh) Alas, let's just say the evening did not go well for them and their poor widdle egos. (In retrospect, we might've let 'em win a game or two if they hadn't been so bloody condescending.)
• When I was young, I loved the Clifton Webb movie Cheaper By the Dozen.  So much so, I wanted to have at least a dozen children of my own someday. Didn't work out that way, but whattaya know? Life blessed me with a dozen grandchildren, and that's even better!
• I still have several dolls. In the middle of the picture below  is ALF, the one and only doll I ever bought for myself. (I LOVED that show  ... and his big feet.) On the left is the angel Ruth doll my wonderful sister-in-law made for me after my mother died, and on the right is another doll named Ruthie. My mother made her, and we laughed like idiots when she gave her to me. (Ugliest doll I ever saw, and I love her to pieces.)

There, is that ten already? That wasn't so bad. Now the harder part. Handing the challenge off to seven other bloggers. Not that I don't admire seven of you guys and gals. Au contraire, mes amies. I admire ALL of you. The difficult part is finding seven of you willing to (ahem) reveal yourselves. (I mean, after all, not everyone wants to wiggle and slither around that pole, or is willing to bare one's soul.)

Ah, what the heck? I'll name seven of you, and if you want to run with it, YAY! If you're too chicken to do a pole dance you'd rather pass, that's okay. Maybe you'll give it a go next time. After a few adult beverages.

• Laura at Austanspace
• L.G. Smith at Bards and Prophets
• Carrie Boo at Carrie on Carrying On
• Julie at Empty Nest Insider
• Murr at Murrmurrs
• Anne at Piedmont Writer
• Mr. Charleston at Termites of Sin

The voyeur in me would really enjoy seeing those folks do a little soul-baring, because I'd like to know more about them, but even if they don't, check out their blogs, okay? 

In the meantime, I already showed you mine. Time to reciprocate. How about revealing a tidbit about yourself in the comments? Doesn't have to be ten ... or even seven ogles. Just one little itty bitty peek ...

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

[Oh yeah, almost forgot. The cute Road Trip picture at the top of the page comes to us courtesy of the cool folks at icanhascheezburger.com]

Lucky Sevens

Thought for the day:  Words have the power to both destroy and heal. When words are both true and kind, they can change our world.   Buddha

Well, I don't know if seven is actually lucky or not, but it's a pretty darned good number for me today, because this particular seven means I'm not scraping the bottom of my mind to come up with a topic for today's post. The delightful Ruby of Blabbin' Grammy has tapped me on the shoulder again, passed on a couple of awards, and provided me with a made-to-order seven-pronged topic. All I have to do is tell you seven things you don't already know about me, and then pass the challenge on to three other bloggers. Here are the awards:

Pretty cool, huh? (Now, you're all hoping I pick YOU for these awards, right?)

Most bloggers simply write seven brief statements to fulfill the "rules of the game," and then go on to the "real" subject of their post for the day, and that's fine, but I'm gonna cheat. Instead of simply spitting them out and going on to something else, I'm gonna expand on them a bit, and let that serve as today's subject(s). (See? Lucky!)

So, here we go.

1.  The poor wasp was trapped in a mud puddle, alive, but just barely, and his infrequent movements were feeble and ineffective. So I did what seemed like a great idea to my 8-year-old mind. Scooped him out of the water, cradled him in the palm of my hand, and gently blew on him to dry his fragile wings. Worked, too. Before he flew away, I'd like to say he thanked me somehow. I'd like to say he did an intricate little butt-wiggling wasp dance just for me, but he actually did exactly what wasps are wont to do. The little ingrate stung me. It didn't make me regret helping him, but it did serve to deliver me an early warning: Do whatever good you can in life, but be prepared to receive the occasional sting.

2. As part of my job in medical research, I used to operate on mice. How cool is that? We had tiny wooden operating tables with an eye bolt on each corner, so we could secure all four limbs. Ether was administered from a soaked swatch of gauze inside of a tiny beaker, which rested over the mouse's snout. Really cool. Also used to make periodic trips to the local abatoir to pick up the occasional bucket of cow eyes on ice. ("Why, yes, I'll have them to go, thank you ...") And to the morgue to pick up various specimens. (No wonder I have such a weird sense of humor!)

3. I used to be an avid bowler, and at one time, bowled on three leagues every week, two handicapped, and one scratch. Best game I ever rolled was a 261, but I blew the game by opening in the tenth frame. Only needed a mediocre score in the third game that night to break my first 600 series, but I didn't do it. Barely managed to break a hundred. That's me ...  Mrs. Consistent. One interesting lesson I gleaned from bowling, though. My average was always higher in the scratch league than it was in the handicapped ones. Perhaps it's human nature to rise to the level of one's competition? Or maybe if we expect more of ourselves, we're more likely to deliver.

4. For my fortieth birthday, a bunch of our fabulous friends pooled their money to treat me to a glamour make-over with Liz Claibourne. Yeah, I know, right? What awesome friends! Anyway, this make-over included a hair cut and style, massage, manicure, facial and make-up, the whole works. Even got a fancy schmancy lunch, complete with a flower and glass of wine. Talk about pampered! When the overhaul was complete, I barely recognized myself. The areas above my eyes and upper lip were blood red and sore as all get-out, thanks to the oh-so-delightful waxing Ms. Claibourne recommended. (Never, never, NEVER again!) Looked like the make-up had been smeared on with a trowel, but hey! It was different! The hairdo was a bit fussier than my usual  run-a-comb-through-it-and-go style, and it was as stiff and hard as a motorcycle helmet. But again, different. Before I left, the people who'd worked so hard on me all day wanted to know where I was going that night to show off my new look. To tell the truth, I'm not sure they believed me, but what can I say? It was bowling night.

5. A friend and I broke my parents' bed by jumping on it. She (the chicken!) headed for the back door, and I headed to the basement to find some nails. The monsters I hammered into that bed frame were four inches long or better, and I used a mess of them, too. Fixed that bed but good. But unfortunately ...  not for long. In the middle of the night, a loud KABOOM came from my parents' bedroom. When the cursing started, I didn't exactly wet myself, but I did lay in my bed with eyes wide and heart pounding, saying my we-who-are-to-die prayers. But ...  nothing happened. Even when they discovered those ridiculously over-sized nails, they never ever suspected me. Years later, I finally told them the truth. I was married, had a kid, and figured the statute of limitations should have me in the clear by then. Besides, I was moving seven hundred miles away the next day.

6. I took two belly dancing courses. I know. Shocking, right? The first turned out to be more of an exercise class than anything, but it was fun. The instructor claimed that in the next semester's advanced class, we'd make costumes, learn an actual routine, and then perform at the nursing home. Didn't happen. It was another fun class, but it was merely a continuation of the first. No costumes. No routine. And no nursing home, which, in retrospect, is probably a very good thing.

7. Our church group DID visit the local nursing home. The idea was to throw them a St. Patty's Day party, and I was drafted to serve as the entertainment. No, I didn't jiggle my belly at them. I played the guitar and sang,  mostly Irish songs, but also a liberal sprinkling of old-time tunes and hymns, as well. While I was singing one of the old hymns, I couldn't help but notice the gentleman who was sitting there with his eyes half-closed, and tears streaming down his face. Concerned that I'd upset him somehow, I spoke with him later. Turned out he was a retired minister, and hadn't heard that hymn in many, many years. So, his tears were those of joy and remembrance. (which is more than I can say if I'd been performing my klutzy version of a belly dance!)

Well, there ya have it. And now,  I'd like to pass the two lovely awards, along with the request to tell us seven things about themselves, to Delores, Julie, and Skippy The ball's in your court, ladies!

How about the rest of you? If you don't have any comments to make about MY seven secrets, how about sharing at least one thing about yourself?

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