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I follow a blogger who recently was sued for snagging a picture and using it. She gave full credit and thought she was within her legal limits. As soon as the person complained, she pulled the picture. That was not enough, and the owner sued her for a large sum of money. I am not certain how that has turned out but I am always in the hopes of becoming wealthy, “Ah, hope springs eternal; and delusional” so thought I should take action now and go through my blog, deleating all photos that are not mine.

I was surprised to find that there were probably under twenty photos I did not own. I did not look through my blogs, just through my pictures, so I hope I did not miss any, cause I am pretty sure poverty will soon be erased by great weath, especially if I spend my days deleating photos.

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It is always nice to have a new subscriber, but it is especially cool to find one from a far away land. I believe it helps to remind us just how similar we are. There are jobs we hate to do and then find out how worthwhile they were. There are times we do not realize how much we miss our relatives until we see them again.

If i cannot travel, at least I can read about other places and people. Sanchari is in Delhi, and blogging at, http://sancharib.wordpress.com/. If you scroll down her posts, you will see some great photos of the Jaisalmer Fort.

But, what really brought me home was her November post on cutting down the Mango tree which was just one year older than she is.

When I was growing up, my side yard had a large weeping willow tree. I could crawl under the branches and have an instant play house/fort/whatever I wanted. Many a day was spent eating lunch and playing under that tree. So, when mom and dad moved to a subdivision, they took a start with them and grew a new weeping willow in the backyard.

When I divorced, I moved back home again with my daughters. Super teacher daughter was in kindergarten and was delighted to live with a weeping willow in her very own backyard. It was she now who spent hours eating cookies or sandwiches and playing dolls under her grandparents tree. That is, until one day years later when lightning split the tree and it was taken down.

We had moved out a couple of years before this, but daughter always ran to visit her tree. We did not think to warn her as we got settled in for our visit, until she came back in the house in tears. Her beloved tree was gone.

She never ate mangoes from it but that tree was a wonderful memory for my daughter, as well as Sanchari’s Mango tree was for her.

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My name is Sheryl and I am an addict.  I am so addicted to http://thebloggess.com/.

 

The Bloggess blog

If you haven't read it, you must!

I check about six times a day for a new post from her.  Should she go three days without posting, I am ready to write and see if she is okay or not?  I am stalking addicted.

I have even developed a ritual for her posts.  I savor read it to myself first, then I read it outloud to husband, while trying not to laugh so hard I fall off my chair, then I post it to facebook.  Then, I get to read all the neat comments I get from my daughter and others who also find her hysterical.

Now if my mind just worked that way, maybe I would post more regularly.

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I love to find bloggers who can make me laugh and I think I have discovered one of the best.  http://thebloggess.com/2011/06/and-thats-why-you-should-learn-to-pick-your-battles/   The Bloggess is hysterical.  I forwarded it to Facebook and got a comment right away from someone who tried it and loved it.  My daughter then wrote me and said that she was laughing so hard she was crying and her husband was looking at her like she was nuts.

When I find a blog like this, my main thing is to read as many old entries as I can.  That is the only thing about The Bloggess, it’s really hard to find/read her past entries.

But, they are all priceless hysterical gems.

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I would love to have natural humor in my writing.

My humor is of the more dry kind.  Someone is having a conversation and I pop in with a blatently obvious observation that no one else will dare to say.

Okay, example:  I graduated from the School of the (Museum) of the Art Institute of Chicago.  You study all forms of art, 2-D, 3-D, 4-D, etc.  We had attended a show of some performance art, where a young man is naked in a cage and trying to pleasure himself.  (It is the Art Institute); lots of naked, lots of angst.  The class was discussing the ‘purpose’ of the performance and what we learned from it.  I, one of the older students, opens my mouth and out pops, “That it’s harder to come in public than you think.”

To me, it was just one of those rules of nature that everyone should know, but the class spent the next five minutes ROFLOL.  (See, I’m not as old as you think.)

Often, when I say these things, I don’t even realize it’s going to be funny.  This makes it hard for me to write humor.  I’ve had a lot of ‘things’ going on in the last year; ill health of family members, ill health of pets, the financial situation, idiots, etc.  Not a lot seems funny to me and I have made a point of going back through my book and MAKING some funny.

I used to read my daughter’s blog, BRAINDEBRIS  at http://braindebris.wordpress.com/, for lessons in funny.  AND, AND, that girl has started blogging again.  That girl is funny in her sleep and it is just all so natural.  I also have a niece who has you in stitches all the time.  I have just discovered, from one of my other favorite blogs, EpBOT at http://www.epbot.com/, to the Bloggess’ blog:  http://thebloggess.com/2011/06/and-thats-why-you-should-learn-to-pick-your-battles/  This one goes to the top of my list, right alongside http://www.crazyauntpurl.com/  BECAUSE, everyone should have a 5 foot tall metal chicken.

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Each of our senses can bring back vivid emotions/memories. 

The commercial for Harry Potter World in Orland, Florida evokes one of those moments in the (approx) eight notes that start it.  Okay, I have no idea what they are calling Harry Potter World, so maybe the commercial isn’t all that good.  But, everytime it starts, I find myself transported to a dark theatre, heart racing but a little lighter, with all the hope and promises of a magical adventure.

I have been reading a new-to-me blog, ‘The Last Muggle to Read Harry Potter via The Last Muggle to Read Harry Potter.’  She is reading the Harry Potter series, for the first time.  Since she has seen the movies and is twenty, she has an interesting perspective on the whole experience.  She also comes up with things that I never thought.

We do not go to the theatre much anymore, even though AMC is only $5.00 in our area and I thought we would go alot.  We still use our criteria for what is a “Big Screen” movie.  I miss going to the theatre and I hate watching movies at home with husband.  He is Mr. Logic.  I get totally enveloped in whatever world the movie is in.  I suspend belief because, hey, we are in the author/screen writer’s world and they probably just have different rules.  Then, suddenly, I am brought back to our world by his telling me that something or other is, “blah! blah! blah!”  He can’t do that in the theatre.  He’s a real mood buster.

So, after he goes downstairs, I pop in a  Harry Potter movie just to listen to those eight notes.

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I am a presistant researcher.  I always figure if I just try to word my search in another way, I will find my answer.  It takes a lot to make me give up.   But, I am about there.

When I reformatted my computer, I lost my favorites.  One of them was a blog that I like to follow.  I have racked and racked my brain for things this blogger talked about but I cannot seem to find her blog.

CLUES:  (Please send me a link to her blog if this sounds familiar!!!)

She is a librarian.

People think she is East Indian but she is really from an island, maybe Samoa??

She lives in the Northwest, maybe Seattle?

Her significant other dances, at any odd time, to make her laugh

They fixed up their house and property, really improving the looks of the property and yet her neighbor gets upset because the one bush drops its leaves on the sidewalk.

She’s very funny and very close to her friends.

GOSH, if we were all reduced to five sentences, what would I be remembered as?

I am an artist?  Did any of you know that?

I live in the midwest.

My significant other sleeps on the couch but we do laugh a lot.

We have fixed up (rehabed) two houses but always wait to do it until we are ready to sell.  So, in the meantime, I live in a house with holes in the kitchen linoleum, a roll in the frontroom carpet and broken tiles by the door.

I try to be funny but my daughter is a natural at it.  She’s also my best friend.

What are your five sentences, or six?

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