Mom To The Rescue!

I can’t believe it’s been 3 weeks since my last post!! Really I thought it was only 2 and that was bad enough, but 3?! I should be ashamed! And I am. While I have my reasons for the hiatus (as usual) I’ve decided to wait another week to share them with you. Don’t worry, its all good, in fact some of it is super EXCITING!! (EEEE!) In the mean time, I leave you in the very capable hands (and feet?) of MOM who has a refreshingly comical way of looking at potentially disappointing occurrences. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

For Sale: Medieval Torture Devices

A few days ago, I did something completely out of character for me. In my older age, I love comfort. Nothing makes me feel more comfortable than a pair of worn flip-flops. Why else would we live in Florida?

We have an EVENT coming up this weekend, which requires something a little more sophisticated than flip-flops; so, I went shopping for some sensible but somewhat attractive shoes. That’s when they caught my eye – the cutest pair of high-heeled sandals — and in MY size. I’m not too old to look tall and elegant, am I? Shakily, I tried them on. They were very good-looking on my pedicured feet. I felt a little pinch on the little toes, but nothing a bandaid or two won’t cure. With glee and a little guilt, I purchased my new high-heeled shoes.

The event is in a few days, so I donned my new shoes to break them in. After six seconds, I put bandaids on my pinkie toes. Ten seconds later, I slapped bandaids on the instep; a few steps later, bandaids on the heels. Now I have mummy feet dressed in cute little shoes. No problem. They just need to be worn awhile to stretch out.

I have no fear of heights. I have stood toe to glass in some of the world’s tallest buildings and looked straight down. I have flown in gliders, small planes, and helicopters. Nothing made me as dizzy as elevating my heels three inches. I walked into the kitchen, hanging on to the walls, with tiny steps and dizzy head. I felt motion sickness coming on, and reached for the Dramamine. By now, I was more determined than ever to BREAK these shoes in and get used to them.

Have you ever done laundry in high heels? Do you know that when you bend down from the added height, you have a lot farther to bend than normal? I held on to the dryer to keep from toppling over. I pulled laundry into the basket one-handed, dizzy-headed, and noticing a slight pain in the Achilles tendons of both legs.

When I straightened up, I saw that my hot-pink-tipped, pedicured toes were dead white. You’d think if they were dead, there would be no feeling. Oh, no! Each mincing step shot lightning bolts of pain into my poor, zombie toes. The pad of my foot spoke LOUDLY in protest. I ignored their accusatory complaints because I am determined to BREAK IN these blankety-blank cute little shoes!

From the kitchen to the bedroom to the living room – I straightened the house, did laundry, fixed breakfast, washed dishes, and finally – FINALLY – sat down at the computer for a much longer stay than I had planned. If I sit through the entire event we’re going to, I should be able to show off my cute little shoes with minimal anguish. Right?

Do you know that as your feet swell, the straps of fancy little sandals do NOT stretch to accommodate the swelling? Now I have FAT dead-looking feet sticking out of these cute little shoes.

I no longer want to break the shoes in before the event. I simply want to BREAK them. Take them off! Soak fat feet in a cold bath! Rip the bandages off and wait for relief, and wriggle my newly freed toes in comfy flip-flops.

Seriously, does anyone want to buy a barely-worn pair of medieval torture devices with cute little restraining straps and three-inch spikes? Size 7 ½ wide, they should fit just fine. Bwaahaaahaaahaaaahaaaaaa.


I Can’t Bare It!

As I mentioned in my last post I started a new job this week so I’ve decided to use that as a convenient reason to not write this week. That and the amazing wedding B & I went to and shot this weekend for our dear friends Leslie & V. We have tons of BEAUTIFUL footage! I can’t wait to start the editing process. Unfortunately there is just not enough time in a week to do it all. But have no fear! Mom has come to the rescue! (Wipes sweat off brow.) Today I present a fun little tid bit on grammar, everyone’s favorite subject, written in my mom’s witty style. I promise you will enjoy it! Really. Would I lye to you?  


If you’re like me, the title would have made you cringe. There are few things as disturbing to an avid reader as the misuse of words.

Call me Gramma Grammar Cop. Before you call me out on my perceived misspelling, may I point out that Gramma, like NaNa, Pop-Pop, Nanny, Granny, etc., is a proper name and the phonetic spelling of grandma as spoken by little mouths.

I recently read a book which had the elements of suspense, great characterization, interwoven plot lines and a dynamite ending. I would have enjoyed it, had I been able to cruise past the jarring walls thrown up by common grammatical errors any good editor should have picked up on. You know what I’m talking about. Here are some examples:

“I can’t bare it!” Whatever it is you can’t bare, probably should remain covered up. If the burden is too heavy, then you might not be able to BEAR it. Yes, bears live in the woods, too, but there are sometimes two or more different meanings for one spelling of a word. Welcome to the English Language.

Their they go, getting there knickers in a twist again. And they’re hair is a mess, too. My teeth hurt from grinding. Do you see the problem here? “There” is how you spell it when you mean over there. “Their” means it belongs to them. “They’re” is short for they are.

Yesterday, I seen a billboard with a gross misspelling. Ouch. I SAW it. I HAVE SEEN it. See the difference? “Seen” is not the past tense of see unless it’s used with the helper word “have” or “had”, depending on the meaning you want to convey.

I do not loose my keys, unless I’m setting them free. When I lose them, it’s usually not with the intent of liberating them.

I am no techno-phobe, but one disservice technology has given us is the auto-correct function. It just turned the correct use of “they’re” to “there”, as I typed it. The challenge is to catch it in the act and nip it in the bud, or, use an extra set of eyes to catch it later. That’s called editing.

I’ve been guilty of letting some of these typical errors lie in wait for the unsuspecting grammar cop to find, so I don’t feel badly about airing my opinions here. Sometimes two sets of eyes don’t catch the little devils. It’s when an entire document, or book, as in the case of the one I labored through, is fraught with these little trip-ups that Gramma Grammar Cop is ready to tare her hair out. Oops. “tear”.

A Comment on Comments

I don’t usually post on Mondays but I have a special treat for you today…a guest blogger!! I haven’t had a guest blogger on for a while and this guest is super special because she gave birth to me. My mom has been commenting on my blog since I started it, so I love that the first post from her is all about…you guessed it….comments! Without further ado welcome my mom.

A Comment on Comments

I have a house full of character. Dyana calls it clutter. It consists of shelves filled with photos of and gifts from people we love most in the world. That includes our children — loosely defined by their kinship through blood, marriage, past marriages or not so married — and our grandchildren — those who belong in some capacity to that hodgepodge.

They are characters, without a doubt. They are also talented, intelligent, beautiful, spirited and fun.

I’m a published writer. By that, I mean I’ve written a few articles for a small hometown newspaper. They were good articles, and fulfilled my lifelong dream of writing something that someone else would read.

One of my fans (I can count them among the photos on the shelves) kindly mentioned that I should start blogging. I thought it was a dance move, related to clogging, and forgot about it. That is, until my daughter started her own blog.

Dyana’s writing style and content are honest, thoughtful, and insightful. She has a conversational style that’s easy to read and relate to. She thinks I’m biased, and I’ll admit my comments are colored by love. If she needed a recommendation letter, I’d joyfully endorse her because I firmly believe she’s the best choice for any job she’s interested in.

In spite of my bias, her writing speaks for itself, and she has done something every mom dreams of. She has openly asked for my comments! It’s a deal a mom cannot pass up. How many of you mothers or fathers can say their child ASKS for their opinion? Okay, so there’s no “Mom” attached to “leave your comments”, but the temptation is irresistible.

Commenting on a blog can open a door for communication and hone writing skills. It can encourage, edify, and even spark ideas for creative writing. Good writing often evokes an emotional response and entertains us. Our comments can reflect that back to the writer.

A comment or critique should be honest, well thought out and presented in a civilized, adult manner. Critiques are valuable to a writer when they include suggestions for improvement, but they’re no more than criticisms when they don’t.

Turnabout is fair play, as my Mom used to say. So, Dyana, I personally invite you to share your opinions with me. In love, of course.


Goodbye Twenty-Twelve!

I know I promised I wouldn’t go this long without writing again. That promise was made to myself as much as it was to anyone who reads my blog and I absolutely hate going back on my word. Writing regularly is not only an outlet for my creative energy, but I’m under the hopefully not disillusioned impression that the more I write the more improved my writing abilities get. With that said the strongest driving force behind my writing is my desire to potentially help others by sharing my experiences. I know for myself personally it was an encouragement when I was told that everything would work out and I was going to be okay. Hearing stories of others’ overcoming adversity instilled a deep hope that no matter what happened I was going to make it.

Here’s what’s kept me away: In the last several weeks I have spent any time I would normally spend on writing on frantically buying Christmas gifts for my boys (including Tall Blonde, or B – whichever you prefer) while trying to maintain a budget; attending an Ugly Sweater Christmas party that ended up being a baby-to-be Gender Reveal party (they’re having a boy!); Planning and celebrating a wonderful Christmas day with my family; packing the boys up for their dads and myself up for a fun packed weekend in NY with B’s family; spending a lot of time on the couch due to a ugly cold/flu thing I picked up along the way…TWICE! Oh, did I mention I also worked two jobs during all this (one of which is a new job)? While I am not trying to make excuses, I want to assure you that it is unlikely a series of events such as these will occur again anytime soon and therefore I should be able to keep up my regular writing schedule.

Here’s a sneak peek at what’s to come in 2013: More guest blogs, Ugly Duckling features and a monthly post from Tall Blonde himself! I hope you will follow along in the journey!