Okay folks, if you are looking for a little Amoeba and Quilly humor, you might want to pop over to Amoeba’s blog.Â We had a bit of a situation here last night, and he has captured it perfectly in print.Â I was here when it wasn’t funny, but his re-telling — and Doug’s comment — just left me laughing.
It has been awhile since I shared a photo and I know some of you hang out here for that, so how about an eye-popping poppy?
These grow by the theater where Amoeba has been “playing” these past several weeks. My Fair Lady finishes its run this Sunday afternoon with an audience sing-a-long as their grand-finale. It sounds like it will be a rousing party. I don’t know that I’ll be there though. I am, however, thinking of attending the Friday night performance if there’s a seat available.
Yesterday, I took a big swallow of hot soup. It burned a path from my tongue all the down to my gullet. I instantly set the soup aside and grabbed my beverage for relief.
It offered no relief.Â I’d washed the burning soup down with a cup of hot coffee.
Now I am pretty much afraid to move.Â I am thinking about booking a vacation. I have a cheap caribbean coupon code — but considering my luck and the spelling on the offer I fear where I might actually end up.
It isn’t just the one incident that made me skeptical though.Â On Sunday Amoeba had music practice so he went to church about an hour and a half before I did. I used my time to bustle around the house and tidy up a few things. I made the bed, put in a load of laundry, started the dishwasher and then sat down to read for a bit. Suddenly I realized I had to scoot to get to church on time. I shot out of the house and into the car. The garage door opened onto a very wet world of pouring rain.
I drove to church and parked in the back parking lot, then opened the car door and looked down. Sure enough, I parked next to a mud puddle. I would have to step very carefully.
I looked down at myself. I was wearing a lovely chiffon blouse, my black dress slacks, and bright-pink fuzzy bedroom slippers.
There was no time to go home and change. There was no way I was wearing pink fuzzy bedroom slippers to church, and there was no way I was missing the service.
That day I honored the hallowed ground appropriately. If anyone noticed, they never said a word.
So what’s next?Â And if stupidity comes in threes, do I really want to find out?
Mocha With Linda has started her very own meme. This is how she describes it:
This new meme’s purpose is to have us take a look back and share about a specific time or event in our lives. It will be fun to see how similar – or different – our experiences have been!.
I am enjoying this meme a lot. Grab the button and the link and come play along. Linda’s theme this week is:
What was Easter like when you were little? For example, did you receive a basket with toys and candy? Was the Easter Bunny part of your family’s celebration? Did your family integrate both secular and spiritual aspects of the day? Did you dye Easter eggs. . . .and did your family eat them afterward? Did you usually get a new outfit? (Post a picture if you have one!) Does any Easter stand out particularly? You might also share how your Easter today is similar or different to your childhood.
I always got a new dress and new shoes for Easter. Shopping for it would be a big deal. Gram always got a new dress for Easter, too. We made it a girl’s outing and enjoyed lunch downtown, too. Easter morning we would don our new dresses for the first time and go to church. Easter was first and foremost about celebrating Jesus.
After church there was always a luncheon with a smorgasbord of food and tons of desserts, children’s performances, and singing was usually part of the program as well. It seemed like my Sunday school teacher was always full of ideasÂ for skits and plays and party games. The afternoons were usually lively and full of fun.
When we got home, Gram would send me to my room to change into play clothes. When I emerged from my room an Easter Basket would await me. Gram had usually hid a half-dozen of the eggs we’d colored and I would look for them. Sometimes she would oblige me and hide them two or three times before insisting I return them to the fridge. Yes, we ate the eggs.Â As a child I knew about the Easter Bunny, but I don’t ever remember believing him to be real.
As an adult, Easter is still all about celebrating Jesus. I haven’t bothered with the new dress and shoes for years now. The last time I colored eggs was probably 5 years ago for Sidewalk Sunday School. I have always attended both the sunrise service and the regular Sunday service on Easter. Our first two Easters together, Amoeba and I did the sunrise service and then went home. But last year we attended both services and we will this year, too, since Amoeba is playing music and/or singing in the service.
Thanks, Linda!Â This was fun!
Geometry is hosted by Katney of Katneyâ€™s Kaboodle. If you’ve got a line or an angle on a great shot, Katney wants you to share it.
This is the center of a fan palm frond.Â These grow at University of Hawaii at Manoa, in a row along the Bilger Hall parking lot and are quite impressive.
Macro Monday is hosted by Lisa of Lisaâ€™s Chaos. If you love macro photography, this is the place for you!
The Last Leaf
This leaf fell from the tree, spiraled to the ground and stuck itself in the grass at my feet.Â Of course I had to bend over and photograph it!Â Imagine my surprise upon downloading the photo to find all of these white flowers — to my naked eye they just looked like a fine white fuzz on the grass.
UPDATE: Amoeba, my darling botanist, says that this is not grass, but the leaf of a very small lily or onion.Â He also said the white “flowers” are called “hair points” and they are on the edges of the very tiny leaves of a very tiny moss.