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Posts Tagged ‘crazy aunt purl’

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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Every time something bad would happen, when I was a girl and mostly in school, I would come home and complain to mom and she would tell me, “The Lord works in mysterious ways.” 

Frankly, it did not make me feel one whit better.  Not one.  And, I mumbled all evening about a God who has nothing better to do than to screw up my life.  Couldn’t he feed one of those starving children that I was so diligently cleaning my plate for, to make sure they got enough to eat?

There was another premise that did not make a lot of sense to me.  It went right along with how much protection I thought I got hiding under my wooden desk from an atomic bomb attack. 

While attending Casper College, in Casper, Wyoming, I studied under and with Lynn Munns.  Lynn became a great friend and fantastic mentor and, excuse me if you have heard this before.  I used to just not “get” modern art but something made it all snap into place for me and Lynn made the statement about this phenomena, that you may see or hear something a thousand times but you need to be in just the right place for it to snap into place.  He was so right.

Which was just a huge, no humongous build up to a very small story.  I was reminded of it by scratches on a scrap of paper but I read Crazy Aunt Purl = via Crazy Aunt Purl,  titled: You Got My Attention with your Big Orange Sticker and finally remembered to blog the story.  Check it out.

The poor State of Indiana got my attention, but it was with a small paper orange sticker, stuck ceremoniously on top of a sign warning travelers, going probably 50 mph, of upcoming road construction.  Some states have huge bright lights that shine in your eyes.  Others flashing, spinning orange ones.  Indiana had taken three post-it notes and mounted them on a wire above the sign.  The orange notes spun around the wire and made a truly impressive warning sign.  NOT!

Guess, God and construction workers work in mysterious ways, or I just was not in the right place to see the brilliance of it all.

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My Master’s Daughter, yes XUP this is MY daughter, not some Master of Tai Kwan Do’s daughter, or Master Chef’s daughter.  She is “MY” oldest daughter and she graduated with a straight A average for her Masters degree in education, so she is “my master’s daughter” and she is back to contributing to the blogosphere.

She is my favorite blog.  Sorry,  XUP but she is my daughter and  she is also the funniest person on this earth, and we are talking a lot of very funny people:

Like Crazy Aunt Purl

and Cake Wrecks

and even Blog | Anthony Bourdain

But, this girl was born seeing the world through funny eyes and her blog is the best ever; daughter or no daughter.  I mean, how many people can find a ton of laughs in cleaning a rabbit cage.  Braindebris’s Weblog.  And, I am talking tears running down my cheeks, laughing so hard I cannot talk now at the picture she has painted of her misadventures cleaning the rabbit cage.  You just gotta read it.

I would also like to point out that the other day I admitted to her:

Under the pressure to be witty and informing on Twitter, I am now cannibalizing your BrainDebris blog and stealing lines.  Oh, the humiliation.
And, now, she begins writing again, after a long absence.  Coincidence?  I think not!!!
HMMM!  There’s this little message at the bottom of her blog in size 3 font.  What does it say????
This blog is property of Braindebris@wordpress.com so back away from that copy/paste bucko and think for yourself!
The little smart aleck!  Guess I’m on my own with Twitter.

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It is in the high 60’s today, in Indiana.  I understand that in Casper, Wyoming, where we lived for ten years before moving back home to Indiana, they have had four good snow storms and are expecting ten more inches this weekend. 

I am still not used to the warmth and nicer weather we have by living less than fifty miles south of Indianapolis.  It is gorgeous today and I saw my first Christmas advertisement.  Good Grief!

It used to be that you had Halloween, the next day you saw adds for Thanksgiving and then, right around Thanksgiving the Christmas adds started.  Now, the folks at Hobby Lobby tell me they have already condensed the ornaments, since they have sold so many, and the Christmas television ads have started.

Just like Crazy Aunt Purl, and her fight against buying more Christmas decorations, I am a Christmas nut.  I have ornaments from both of my grandmother’s trees.  I love the season and I love the lights, smells, sounds and ornamentation of it.  However, it just does not last as long as it used to.

I remember coming home from school with crayon Christmas drawings, through huge drifts of snow , and how long it seemed before Christmas Eve.   I remember sneaking into the kitchen, while the others decorated the tree, and eating the whole package of chocolate covered wafer cookies.  I do not remember the throwing up which I did.

But, snow or no snow, and even though Christmas comes and goes in the blink of an eye, it is a warm and cozy holiday to spend with loved ones.  With or without sixteen rubbermaids of decorations.

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One of my all time favorite blogs is Crazy Aunt Purl. Her new book is in the hands of her editor and all is well in her world; other than her roof has a waterfall coming through it.   I cannot wait to read her new book and, I promise, I will buy my own copy this time and not just borrow my daughter’s. 

Her October 14th post, has a hilarious section about the summer she was smited three times.  She is from bayou country and down there they refer to acts of God as being “smited.”  I am from the midwest where those same “acts of God” are usually lectured as, “God has his reasons.” 

Those reasons were never explained but the inference were that either you had done some awful, evil thing or, even more esoteric, your band director was a jerk and you had to leave band (your chosen vocation) because this would ‘some day in the future’ save you from dying in childbirth. 

Obviously, I never died in childbirth so perhaps that was the reason I had to endure some stuff, but I had to wonder, even as a child, just exactly what evil, thing I,  an eleven/twelve/etc. year old child could have possibly done that brought God’s wrath down on me, repeatedly.

To preface my story, for my non-daily readers (which is everyone since I have been very lax in posting lately), husband is on Social Security Disability, and after twenty years of that, you have very old, junky cars. 

We have been very fortunate in that several times, relatives/friends have given us cars they were done with.  Then, I came into a very small sum of money a year ago and was able to purchase a 2000 Chrysler Voyager.

I absolutely love that car.  It is my favorite ever car and has the best visibility in the world.   It was really nice to have a reliable car, with a muffler, so that I did not have to sneak into places where I had to go to meetings, so I would be heard before I arrived.  Our other car, inherited, had no muffler, a cracked windshield, no heater or air, and a wierd thunk in the transmission since before I inherited it, but it just keeps plugging along.

So Gaffer called the other night and said he was let off work early as the restaurant was not busy enough.  Husband left to pick son up from work, and on our windy, after dusk roads, he stopped at a stop sign, looked, and was 3/4 way through the intersection when he noticed another car’s headlamps were embedded into, well, just about into his head.  Amazingly, he has one tiny injury from the padded arm rest.   The car is not so lucky!

I do have to wonder why no one has ever hit the car with no muffler, cracked windshield, no heater or air and a wierd thunk in the transmission?

Say goodbye to my Chrysler Voyager!

wreck

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It is miracle Saturday.  I don’t usually get online on a Saturday; let alone one that is rainy.  So, I thought I would share a bit of my life with you.

When I do get online, one of my favorite blogs is Crazy Aunt Purl.  I have secretly been thinking about living in L.A. a lot lately.  I have no idea why; okay, there is the warmer weather, but I would HATE the traffic.  But, Crazy Aunt Purl wrote a most moving blog on August 17; when the gardeners her landlord hired totally destroyed her garden.  It was an act of vandalism, as far as I am concerned.  My heart  sunk when I saw it, I can only imagine how she felt when she came home and discovered it.  Her rows of beautiful corn, I have four stalks that have yet to reach knee height, and her pumpkin vines are now just like four sticks sticking up, with one tiny pumpkin sitting forelornly in the mud.  How mean can someone be, to do that to a person, after that person has worked for months to put food, they grew, on the table?

Anyway, that is how they grow, with tender loving care, in Sunny L.A.  This has been a cool year and this is how they have grown in rainy, cool, Indiana this year.

baby watermelon

Let’s just hope these striped babies are well hidden from the two orphan fawns that are eating my ripe tomatoes.

My pumpkin patch is creeping out into the grass, which is now impossible to mow without cutting the pumpkins.  It originates from the top o the picture (where the tomato cages are and is growing out to the bottom of the picture, and on the right side, even growing up the side of my studio.

pumpkin patch

And, here is one of my baby yellow pumpkins in this patch.

pumpkin yellow

To end up, I will show you what IS tornado damage.  The expert came out to one house and declared it to be straight wind but my yard was damaged with things falling in a circular pattern throughout.  I have very thick hostas in front of my studio.  I was going to thin them this fall, but this is what I have on one side now. 

damaged hostas

You can see the progressive damage as the wind whipped around.  The sticks at the corner of the studio were full grown hosta just as the one under the window is; even though it is also beaten a bit.  This is one side of the door, the plants on the other side of the door were barely damaged at all.  The tree to the right of this building, past my garden, had a large limb ripped off and it went to the right.  The limb on my roof was knocked to the right, and all around my yard, they were knocked down in that swirl pattern.

My next door neighbor was home during the storm and he heard the freight train sound, so I am presuming the eye went over their house.

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Crazy Aunt Purl has a great pattern for knitting arm warmers.   CrazyAuntPurl: My hands are officially warmed.  Hers are such great colors too.  I think I will make a pair.  Right after I finish my Harry Potter scarf and the socks that I started early in 2008.  I have also bought four skeins of 100% wool, northern sky Aran on sale at Herschners, really cheap, for socks.  But, I haven’t read if I can use it or not for socks. 
I just checked and found that I must never throw them in the washer as 100% wool will felt.  Yeah, like that will work.  I am now forced to buy a book at Herschner’s to make Aran & Celtic sweaters or maybe the Great American Aran Afghan book, with the yarn.  Like, I do not have enough afghan’s already.  I figure they will come in handy when I am homeless and cold.  Which  should be on my list of things I do not want to do.
 
Crazy Aunt Purl posted a picture of her cat in her kitchen.  CrazyAuntPurl: Which one of these things does not belong in a kitchen? Her kitchen is so brightly clean white, I want to shoot her, or stab her with a fork four hundred times.  I guess that is what you can have when you live alone, with your cats, and work all day.  I live with three men.  I have a burned wall in back of my stove and a sprayer that is no longer attached to the sink so that water runs into the open hole and into my cabinet at times.  And filthy toilets.  Why is it that men can’t get it in the hole?  Either thing!
 
Crazy Aunt Purl is writing a new book.  That is, IF there isn’t an earthquake.  Right now, she is praying for an earthquake.

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