Monthly Archives: November 2009


Mumford and Sons – Little Lion Man

I’m pretty sure I posted this once already but it’s so freakin’ awesome I had to do it again in case you missed it the first time.  Caution: bad word.


PD and I spent last weekend with the Juju Clan  (not linking to Juju’s blog, it seems to be in a state of repose…). It was great.  The littlest Juju boy turned 3 years old.  We sang Happy Birthday (quietly while he covered his ears and closed his eyes- doesn’t like being the center of attention, obviously) and ate cake and ice cream and he opened presents in the traditional way that we  celebrate birthdays.  It was great spending time with them on a happy occasion.  I just happen to have the most awesome grandkids in the world.

There always seem to be some interesting sights and occurences on our way to and from NY.  This time was no exception.  The only thing missing was the usual gorgeous sun and clouds that always seem to be present over Interstate 79.  This time was just gray gloom.  Oh well.

I am not one to buy much into stereotypes such as the ones that you may or may not associate with truck drivers.  But I don’t believe that I’ve ever noticed a truck driver who was of the Oriental persuasion.  Nothing wrong with that, just an observation.  Kind of like a blog I used to read, “Black Men Don’t Ride Bikes.”

Coming down 79 between mile markers 161 and 162, there is a small stuffed gnome strapped to a pole.  That was pretty cool.  Hope he’s keeping warm at night. And not missing his family too much.

There was only ONE BOAT on the lake at Moraine State park.  It wasn’t terribly sunny but it wasn’t cold, so I was surprised.

Saw a license plate on a fancy car (maybe a Lexus?) that read: PRAYD4IT.  Thought that was kind of sad, myself.

A conversation between PD and me on the way~

PD: There’s an unmarked State Police car.

Me:  Question: What’s the sense of an unmarked car if people like you can tell it’s a police vehicle?

PD: (no answer)

Me: How did you know it’s a police car?

PD: It said on the side.

Me: (wth?) Then it wasn’t unmarked, now was it?

PD: Well, there were no lights on top.

It’s just these sorts of exchanges that make me wonder how we get along so well.

Then there was this~

We’d come out of a rest stop.  PD had been waiting for me, reading the front page of USA Today.  There was an article about a bomb-sniffing dog that had been lost in the Afghan desert for a year and he read me the the headline.  I had been thinking about something and what he’d said only half-registered in my busy brain. He told me that when they found the dog they honored him with a regular hero’s welcome. It suddenly occurred to me that it seemed highly weird that they would train an Afghan Hound to sniff bombs.  And how in the heck would one survive for a year in the desert?  Yeah, this is how my brain works.  And why PD deserves your prayers.  And more of my undivided attention.




I was never a fan of Norah Jones.  That is, until I heard this song.  Then I fell in love.

Norah Jones – Chasing Pirates


This just in.  The ink is still wet…

One of my favorite songs in a brand new video that the band made themselves.  I have that on good authority.  They told me.   *wink wink*

Enjoy.  And don’t try to dance with your coffee.  You’ll spill it.  I know.

The Airborne Toxic Event – Gasoline: Majordomo Version

DAD’S PLANT (Part 2)

So yeah, I’ve had the plant since my dad died April of 1998. It was the only plant from the dish garden that survived so I was very careful about tending to it. In fact, when we would go to the family park each year for our family reunion, PD fills up jugs with water from the creek there and I would use that to water it each and every Saturday morning. My dad probly played in that creek or fished in it and I figured he might appreciate some of that “down home food” for the plant. I got to the point that I would be devastated if anything happened to the plant so I tried numerous times to take cuttings, hoping they would root and I’d have a “back up” if anything ever happened to it. It took me all this time but I now have two full-sized plants and a baby that I’m tending with love and care.
The really cool thing about this plant… All of a sudden one day after I’d had it for awhile, it bloomed. Little wee tiny white flowers. I don’t remember how long the blooms lasted the first few times. But after a time, I noticed that there was no pattern to when it would bloom. After another time, I noticed that it would bloom when there was something good going on in the family, such as when a baby was born or a marriage, different milestones in the family. I started to interpret the flowers as Dad’s way of saying to me “This is good.” After a few years, I got used to it and could predict when I could start watching for the flowers. You can understand, I think, why the plants have come to be so important to me.
I have a cousin who grew fascinated with the plant a while back when I told her that it bloomed right before she told us she was expecting. A couple of years later when she found herself once again in a family way, she would call me from time to time to see what Dad was “saying.” As it so happened, she called one day and I reported that the plant was indeed in bloom but I was amazed this time, to see that the flowers were not white, but lavender. She laughed and told me she knew why. When I asked how she could know such a thing, she told me that she had painted the baby’s nursery lavender that morning. So of course, the next time I see her, I’m gifting her with the baby plant. I know she’ll appreciate it and take good care of it. And I think Dad would like that.
There have been times that my mom was struggling with health issues or some other type of stress. I love to be able to tell her that the plants are blooming and that Dad is saying “Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”
I’m sure there are those out there who may be skeptical about this kind of communication I have with my Dad. But I don’t care, it’s between him and me and that’s all that matters.
It’s Saturday morning, time to go water the plants. : )


Pure. Magic.