Category Archives: Musings

Soccer or badminton: you have a choice

When the Olympics began, I had every event taped which pretty much cut down on watching anything else.  When I culled the huge number of hours I’d saved, I looked at the description of each.  If the information described a sport I didn’t have much interest in, I erased it without even viewing.  I mean, so many events, so little time! 

Then I discovered most of the information about what was on at a specific time was wrong.  I’d erased events I wanted to see because, instead of women’s soccer they were labeled badminton  Please, all you fans of badminton, I apologize for insulting your favorite sport.  We used to play it all the time in our backyard but we looked nothing like those who play it on an Olympic level.  However, it is not an exciting sport to watch.  The only exciting part was that eight players were kicked out for cheating and did it so badly that the spectators booed them.   But, due to the incorrect information, I had hours of that and little of the first soccer games.

This mislabeling turn me to a more philosophical frame of mind:  the way we expect certain behavior or talents or attitudes  by the way we label people.  We often don’t give them a chance because of how we’ve labeled them.   One of the most  exciting part of the Olympics to me was watching women from countries that had never sent a woman to the Olympic compete.   None of them moved up so some might say this proved nothing other than they couldn’t compete.  To me, the important and exciting part was that those countries allowed them to be there.  The same is true of women’s boxing.  I truly have difficulty with women hitting other women, especially now that we know so much about brain damage, but if men are allowed to inflict injury on each other, don’t the athletes deserve that choice? 

What’s your opinion about labeling?  And what’s your favorite sport?  Did you get to watch as much of it as you wanted?

I’m hooked but only every couple of years

If you aren’t a sports fan, please forgive my blogs about the Olympics.  For those of us who love nearly anything that has running or swimming or throwing, this is like a feast with every form of chocolate spread out in front of us for two weeks. 

So, because I consider myself an expert having watched at least 1000 hours of coverage, here are a few observations.

First,  I LOVE the British commentators.  Anything they say sounds profound or terribly witty.  Two examples: 

During the second half of a close soccer game, the announcer said, “The Americas would rather fancy another goal or two.”

During another soccer game when  a lot of tripping and shoving had started:  “It’s getting a little chippy out there.”

Next observation and a question.  When the amazing American women gymnasts were performing during the team final, one of the announcers (an American not a Brit) said, “When you’re in the presence of greatness, recognize it.”  I reacted negatively.  Although I do admire anyone who works hard to achieve, I’m not sure only being able to fly off a vault constitutes “greatness”.

I’d really like your opinions before it starts getting a little chippy here.

Too many choices: A quandary of Olympic proportions

I love the Olympics.  All together in one place for two marvelous weeks are my favorite sports–basketball, gymnastics, swimming, diving, track—as well as some I’ve never heard of and never foresaw that I’d watch.   For example,  I’ve watched the finals of women’s ten-meter air rifle.  The first gold medal of the games went to China.  I also watched table tennis because the US had a sixteen-year-old playing. 

The problem?  Because there’s so much on,  I have far too many decisions to make.   On Saturday morning, the first full day of coverage, the US women played basketball.  Fifteen minutes later, the coverage of the US women’s soccer began.    I watched soccer because I can do other stuff when soccer’s on.  Sorry to offend any soccer fans, but they will show the soccer goals over and over whereas basketball goes really fast.

My husband says I would win the gold medal for TiVo-ing if there were one.  I’m saving every minute of every event scheduled.  Last week, to warm-up for the Olympics I erased 100 previously saved programs.  The disk is now  75% empty and only 34 programs are still saved.   They had to be great ones to survive the cut.  

Every morning and evening, I study the upcoming events and decide which ones to record and which not to.  George is unhappy with me because I didn’t save the beach volleyball with Brazil playing.  I figure if he wants to watch gorgeous women in bikinis rolling in the sand, he can save that himself.

Do you watch the Olympics?  If so, what are your favorite events?  Do you record everything? 

A bunch of things I’ve learned about life from our pets

A bunch of  things I’ve learned about life from our pets

1.         From Paco, my blue parakeet:   Leaving the cage is risky but what’s life without risk? 

2.         From Goldie, my cockatiel, very crabby after laying fourteen eggs in a week:   Sometimes being a female sucks.

3.        From all our cats:   Sleeping twenty-three hours a day is an ability much to be admired.

4.         From my peach-faced lovebirds Bone Crusher and Scarface:  Separate cages are often better for a relationship.

5.         From Scooter the Wonder Cat:   When you’re really good looking, you can do anything you want.

6.         From Dream, the black cocker:   When someone is crying,  climb into her lap and lick her face. 

7.         From Dolly Gray, my husband’s cat and no one else’s:  I decide who gets to touch me

8.         From Bridgette, our Irish setter:  If you can reach it, you can eat it.  (I’ve since had to unlearn this.)

9.         From all my pets:  God has a wonderful sense of humor.  I know that  because  God created laughter and joy and cocker spaniels.

Why are these women so happy?

When I was looking for clip art of a woman cleaning a stove for my last blog, I discovered that, by and large, most of the photos which feature women cleaning show really happy smiling women doing a multitude of chores.  Cleaning a toilet has never made me as happy as the woman on the left.  In fact, I can’t think of a time when I beamed at the toilet brush.

Nor have I ever danced and sung with the mop.  

My thought is that I’m not doing housekeeping correctly.   I don’t smile while cleaning.  I have always considered it a chore, one to be approached only when one cannot get through the hallway or the odor threatens to asfixiate all inhabitants.   Although I don’t hate loading the dishwasher and hate washing clothes less than that, I cannot think of a single household chore I like–much less one that makes me smile or dance.  In fact, about the only way I get through them is by having the television on so I don’t have to notice I’m cleaning

Which brings me to this question:  what do you do to make housekeeping fun?   I mean, while sober.   

Thank you.

Shameless Self-promotion

At heart, I’m a shy, timid  soul.  Some of my friends–possibly every one of them–will not believe this; however, I’ve  always had trouble asking people to do something for me.    One example of many:  when I was a Brownie, I could not sell Girl Scout cookies.  The thought of going up to a neighbor’s door and asking them to buy a box terrified me.  Fortunately, my family liked cookies because we had  dozens during that time of year.   

And, yet, I find promoting my books very easy.  I think I may be able to play a part:  AUTHOR.  As author, I have no trouble handing out bookmarks to people I’ve never met, entering bookstores and introducing myself to staff, asking if I could blog on a site, or making any number of pushy requests.

But I believe I did my most shameless bit of  self-promotion a week ago.  As I’ve written, June 18th I had surgery on my droopy eyelids.  As the gurney I was on was shoved into  pre-op, I promoted my latest book to the anesthesiologist.   She seemed very interested.  Only wish I’d tucked a few bookmarks in the pockets of my hopsital gown.  

Can anyone top this?  (And please forgive any typoes.  I still cannot see well!)

Surgery + 3 days

I’d hoped I’d be better to see by now but still can’t write or watch much television and cannot read at all (so please excuse any spelling errors here) and I hate that!  I am a bookaholic.  Fortunately, my darling husband of forty-six years showed me the marvel of the talking Kindle.   Now I listen to my books.  The voice mispronounces words; for example,   chapel becomes chapelle, but it’s less boring.  I have convinced George that I cannot see well enough to cook or vacuum or load the dishwasher.  He knows I can.  He’s just to nice to mention it and he loves take-out.   I have increased font size on my computer so will be able to get some writing done today–thank goodness.  I have left Hannah and Gabe (book three:  The Wedding Planners) alone in the wreckage of the tornado and need to get them out.   

George took a picture of me a few minutes ago and I think the surgery turned out well although I’m not sure I’m happy with the lips.  What do you think?

I’ll be seeing you . . .

I’ve had trouble seeing for several years due to droopy–really, really droopy–eyelids.  However, I had a lot going on and more important health matters came up.  Just didn’t find time to get to the doctor for testing.

Then, allergies hit and I could see only through narrow slits with my eyes so puffy.    That happened the day of my signing in late April.   I’ve added a picture–it’s been on the blog previously–so you can see how much trouble I was having with my eyes.  I didn’t publish the pictures George took from the front because I looked like an over-inflated balloon fixin’ to pop.  

With that, I said, “My turn.”   I had the surgery Monday and wrote this over the weekend because I won’t be able to see for a day or two.   I look forward to being able to drive at night and to reading TIME magazine!

I won’t be blogging for a few days

I’m going to have some MINOR  minor surgery Monday and  should be home by noon.  However, the doctor says I probably won’t be able to email or read for a few days.  

The choice of date wasn’t the best because Monday June 18th–the day I’m having the minor surgery–is George’s and my FORTY-SIXTH anniversary!    But the doctor does surgery only on Mondays and I wanted to go ahead and get it over with.

Because of the date, for the first thirty-five years of our marriage, we seldom celebrated together.  I was often at church camp or on work camps.   It’s nice to be together for the last few years.

He’s a saint to have put up with me all these years.  I find, oddly, that after forty-six years, I love George more than I did when we were  young and gorgeous.  George is still wonderfully handsome, but I show a little wear and tear.   However, the surgeon has promised that after the surgery, I will–again–be stunning.   He showed me this picture of what I can expect.Then he  said, “You’ll look exactly like this.”  I can hardly wait!