My sister reminded me this morning of an incident from my early years that I had completely forgotten -- the time I got my elbow stuck in a jar of peanut butter.
Yes -- you read that correctly -- elbow stuck in a jar of peanut butter.
I must have been about 6 years old or so...and we were visiting our beloved Granny in Ohio. I remember loving to visit her -- aside from the fact that she would let us play with her make-up and jewelry ("Darlings - be beautiful -- you never know who's watching!") -- she would turn us loose in the kitchen and we'd play for hours with bottles and containers -- I remember thinking of the big bottle of vinegar as the "Dad" and the small bottle of vanilla extract -- as, well, ME...
But, I digress...
So my sister and I were in her kitchen playing, goofing around as young girls are prone to do, and it occured to me that the opening of the peanut butter jar looked about the same size as my (then quite small) elbow. So I tried it out.
And it fit!
Really!
You see where this is going -- once in, my elbow was STUCK. I literally had a jar of peanut butter stuck on my bent elbow. And this was the early 70's...when peanut butter came in a glass jar.
My sister pulled at it...I tried popping it off...nothing. It was good and stuck -- suction is an amazing thing!
And then, in came Granny -- who only had one question -- "how did you get your elbow stuck in a jar of peanut butter?"
And in the now immortal words of a six-year-old, I told her -- "I wanted to see if it would fit."
Made perfect sense at the time. I mean, I was there, the peanut butter was there -- and I had an audience -- why not see if it would fit??
So Granny wrapped my arm in a towel and took me outside where she smashed the glass to get it off my elbow.
No harm...no foul...no blood even.
And no one was in the least upset -- not me, not my sister (who just thought it was about the funniest thing she'd ever seen) -- and certainly not Granny.
It never occured to us to sue the Peter Pan Peanut Butter company...or to punish me...it just was what is was -- a six-year-old with a jar of peanut butter stuck on her elbow.
My sister's reminder this morning got me to thinking -- what ever happened to young girl who saw a jar of peanut butter and her elbow and thought "why not?"
What would you "try" if you had no fear?
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
You say it's your birthday? It's my birthday too!
I love my birthday!
I really do.
And it's not about presents -- althought I certainly love getting presents. And it's not about being the center of attention -- although those who know me well, know that that's not an issue for me either.
It's about memories. And looking foward.
As a child, my parents always made a big deal out of our birthdays. My Mom would make these incredible cakes -- I can recall Barbie cakes and fancy frosting, a cake that looked like a construction site with matchbox cars -- even a carousel cake that my father set on fire!
We were not much for actual parties -- but there was always some kind of activity -- bowling, miniature golf, a Phillies game -- and it was always fun.
The older I get, the less important the stuff has become -- and the importance has shifted to simply having a nice day and relaxing a bit. Since I've been married, our trip to the shore has often coincided with my birthday -- which is nice and relaxing. And my husband always manages to surprise me.
The only downside to this whole birthday thing is the 'getting older' part -- it's difficult sometimes to acknowledge that I'm not as young as I used to be... but I can honestly say that I wouldn't want to go back.
Not that it was ever an option.
Happy Birthday to me!
I really do.
And it's not about presents -- althought I certainly love getting presents. And it's not about being the center of attention -- although those who know me well, know that that's not an issue for me either.
It's about memories. And looking foward.
As a child, my parents always made a big deal out of our birthdays. My Mom would make these incredible cakes -- I can recall Barbie cakes and fancy frosting, a cake that looked like a construction site with matchbox cars -- even a carousel cake that my father set on fire!
We were not much for actual parties -- but there was always some kind of activity -- bowling, miniature golf, a Phillies game -- and it was always fun.
The older I get, the less important the stuff has become -- and the importance has shifted to simply having a nice day and relaxing a bit. Since I've been married, our trip to the shore has often coincided with my birthday -- which is nice and relaxing. And my husband always manages to surprise me.
The only downside to this whole birthday thing is the 'getting older' part -- it's difficult sometimes to acknowledge that I'm not as young as I used to be... but I can honestly say that I wouldn't want to go back.
Not that it was ever an option.
Happy Birthday to me!
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Oddities that make me smile
We all have them -- those little things -- oddities, if you will, that please us in some truly unique way.
For example -- I get some sort of tremendous pleasure from opening a new jar of peanut butter and being the first person to put a knife into the virgin jar. I don't know why this is -- it just is. It gets even better -- I don't even really LIKE peanut butter. Yet, I get truly giddy each time I realize that I'm opening the new jar.
You might wonder if I get the same satisfaction from opening, say, a new jar of jelly...nope. Nada. Zilch. Nothing. It's just a jar of jelly. Nothing special. No brief moment of happiness. And I've tested it with other spreadables as well -- butter, frosting, etc. Not even the briefest twinge of excitement....it is completely centered around peanut butter -- which I don't eat.
Maybe it's a comfort thing?
But I think we all have these little "things" that please us in a weird not-able-to-be-defined way.
Another one for me is the "pull through" -- you know, when you get into a parking and lot, pull into a parking space and realize that you can "pull through" to the facing parking space (and not have to back out of the space). Again -- a little thing that pleases me tremendously.
And tiny paper umbrellas -- for some reason, I just LOVE tiny paper umbrellas -- whether in a drink or a fancy dessert -- ANYTHING tastes better with a tiny paper umbrella in it. And it's usually a surprise -- "oh! -- my spumoni has a tiny paper umbrella in it" -- a tiny paper umbrella can make an entire meal better.
And I have no idea why.
May your day be filled with fresh jars of peanut butter, multiple pulls through and tiny paper umbrellas!
Or whatever gives YOU that unexpected thrill.
For example -- I get some sort of tremendous pleasure from opening a new jar of peanut butter and being the first person to put a knife into the virgin jar. I don't know why this is -- it just is. It gets even better -- I don't even really LIKE peanut butter. Yet, I get truly giddy each time I realize that I'm opening the new jar.
You might wonder if I get the same satisfaction from opening, say, a new jar of jelly...nope. Nada. Zilch. Nothing. It's just a jar of jelly. Nothing special. No brief moment of happiness. And I've tested it with other spreadables as well -- butter, frosting, etc. Not even the briefest twinge of excitement....it is completely centered around peanut butter -- which I don't eat.
Maybe it's a comfort thing?
But I think we all have these little "things" that please us in a weird not-able-to-be-defined way.
Another one for me is the "pull through" -- you know, when you get into a parking and lot, pull into a parking space and realize that you can "pull through" to the facing parking space (and not have to back out of the space). Again -- a little thing that pleases me tremendously.
And tiny paper umbrellas -- for some reason, I just LOVE tiny paper umbrellas -- whether in a drink or a fancy dessert -- ANYTHING tastes better with a tiny paper umbrella in it. And it's usually a surprise -- "oh! -- my spumoni has a tiny paper umbrella in it" -- a tiny paper umbrella can make an entire meal better.
And I have no idea why.
May your day be filled with fresh jars of peanut butter, multiple pulls through and tiny paper umbrellas!
Or whatever gives YOU that unexpected thrill.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Gnomes, Groans and Palindromes
I've always had an affinity for bouncy pop tunes -- particularly those from the 70's and 80's -- songs you can sing along too -- even when hearing for the first time. So you can imagine my delight at seeing Mamma Mia Friday night at the Hershey Theatre.
ABBA! All ABBA!
The show was terrific -- very entertaining in a mindless sort of way -- and I spent much of it wondering how they would manage to work Waterloo into the rather loose storyline. Great fun -- truly -- and I'd recommend the show to anyone. Les Miz it ain't -- but equally entertaining.
But, for me, the pre-show was almost as interesting as the actual staged performance.
Pre-show, you say? Oh yes -- the show before the show -- the show that takes place in the lobby of the theatre prior to the curtain rising.
First up -- the pre-show costumes -- and I do mean costumes! For example:
-- when did flip flops become dress shoes?
-- when did women -- who in clothes that fit would not look in the least heavy-set -- decide to wear t-shirts so skin tight you can visually measure the circumference of their navels?
-- and nipples! Yes -- I said nipples! I actually saw a woman's nipples as she bent over in the one halter top that wasn't too tight, to retrieve something on the floor -- she just popped out, and nice as you please said "oops" and popped herself back in.
But my favorite pre-show character was the fellow - youngish - who stood in front of me in the lobby as I was sitting in a lovely velvet covered chair. He was short, but his derriere was eye level and he just kept backing up into my face. He had to see me, (I'm hardly a waif!) so I can only assume he wanted me to read the print on the tiny label on his backside -- for those interested, it said:
Banana Republic Chinos
100% Cotton Original Clothing
Manufactured for Strength and Reliability
The tag couldn't have been more than 1 inch by 2 inches -- which should give you an idea of how close this man's buttocks were to my face!
I tried to get the attention of my husband -- who was sitting in another velvet chair about three feet from me, but he was watching a show of his own -- a 30 something fellow so utterly mesmerized by his own appearance that he couldn't stop staring at himself in the large mirror behind our chairs. In between his primping, he must have made and/or received 5 phone calls (in about ten minutes) --we can only assume that he was a transplant surgeon trying to decide if he had enough time to watch Mamma Mia before the helicopter with the heart landed at Hershey Med. Or maybe he was trying to determine if his botox injections had kicked in yet?
So, to our pre-show cast of characters...I offer each of you your own solo in Mamma Mia:
...to the ample busomed gal -- Does Your Mother Know?
...to Mr. Banana Republic -- Knowing Me/Knowing You
...and to Dr. Botox -- S.O.S
Now...must run...I Have a Dream to make some Money, Money, Money for my very own Super Trouper whilst he eats a Chiquitita.
Thank you for the music!
Laura the Dancing Queen
ABBA! All ABBA!
The show was terrific -- very entertaining in a mindless sort of way -- and I spent much of it wondering how they would manage to work Waterloo into the rather loose storyline. Great fun -- truly -- and I'd recommend the show to anyone. Les Miz it ain't -- but equally entertaining.
But, for me, the pre-show was almost as interesting as the actual staged performance.
Pre-show, you say? Oh yes -- the show before the show -- the show that takes place in the lobby of the theatre prior to the curtain rising.
First up -- the pre-show costumes -- and I do mean costumes! For example:
-- when did flip flops become dress shoes?
-- when did women -- who in clothes that fit would not look in the least heavy-set -- decide to wear t-shirts so skin tight you can visually measure the circumference of their navels?
-- and nipples! Yes -- I said nipples! I actually saw a woman's nipples as she bent over in the one halter top that wasn't too tight, to retrieve something on the floor -- she just popped out, and nice as you please said "oops" and popped herself back in.
But my favorite pre-show character was the fellow - youngish - who stood in front of me in the lobby as I was sitting in a lovely velvet covered chair. He was short, but his derriere was eye level and he just kept backing up into my face. He had to see me, (I'm hardly a waif!) so I can only assume he wanted me to read the print on the tiny label on his backside -- for those interested, it said:
Banana Republic Chinos
100% Cotton Original Clothing
Manufactured for Strength and Reliability
The tag couldn't have been more than 1 inch by 2 inches -- which should give you an idea of how close this man's buttocks were to my face!
I tried to get the attention of my husband -- who was sitting in another velvet chair about three feet from me, but he was watching a show of his own -- a 30 something fellow so utterly mesmerized by his own appearance that he couldn't stop staring at himself in the large mirror behind our chairs. In between his primping, he must have made and/or received 5 phone calls (in about ten minutes) --we can only assume that he was a transplant surgeon trying to decide if he had enough time to watch Mamma Mia before the helicopter with the heart landed at Hershey Med. Or maybe he was trying to determine if his botox injections had kicked in yet?
So, to our pre-show cast of characters...I offer each of you your own solo in Mamma Mia:
...to the ample busomed gal -- Does Your Mother Know?
...to Mr. Banana Republic -- Knowing Me/Knowing You
...and to Dr. Botox -- S.O.S
Now...must run...I Have a Dream to make some Money, Money, Money for my very own Super Trouper whilst he eats a Chiquitita.
Thank you for the music!
Laura the Dancing Queen
Thursday, June 19, 2008
...and it's still available!
Out of curiousity I went to Amazon.com -- and Ann Likes Red is still available -- I may have to buy a copy!
Anyone willing to the share the first book they remember reading?
Anyone willing to the share the first book they remember reading?
Red, red, red!
Books and reading have always been a huge part of my life. I actually get nervous if I have fewer than a dozen books sitting on my 'reading table' -- I like to know that I've got options at all times, depending on my mood. I simply love to read -- and would choose a good book over TV, going to the movies -- almost anything at anytime. I even carry an "emergency" book with me in my laptop bag -- just in case I find myself with a few unanticipated 'reading' moments. My literary interests cross all boundaries -- I enjoy biographies, bestsellers, self-help and trashy romance novels. I can be just as content with The Iliad as with Wuthering Heights.
It got me thinking...what was the first book I actually remember reading?
And, if memory serves, the earliest book I remember reading to myself was in kindergarten -- and it was called Ann Likes Red. It was a mostly 'picture' book -- about a little girl (not unlike myself at the time) whose mother was trying to get her to choose something to wear -- it went something like this (with apologies to the author!):
"A blue dress, Ann?"
"No -- I want red! Red, red, red!"
"A brown belt, Ann?"
"No -- I want red! Red, red, red!"
You get the idea. Ann liked RED. I'll bet the book didn't have more than twenty words in it, but funny that I can remember much of it all these years later.
Laura likes red, too. Red, red, red!
It got me thinking...what was the first book I actually remember reading?
And, if memory serves, the earliest book I remember reading to myself was in kindergarten -- and it was called Ann Likes Red. It was a mostly 'picture' book -- about a little girl (not unlike myself at the time) whose mother was trying to get her to choose something to wear -- it went something like this (with apologies to the author!):
"A blue dress, Ann?"
"No -- I want red! Red, red, red!"
"A brown belt, Ann?"
"No -- I want red! Red, red, red!"
You get the idea. Ann liked RED. I'll bet the book didn't have more than twenty words in it, but funny that I can remember much of it all these years later.
Laura likes red, too. Red, red, red!
Friends, Romans and Countrymen (and women!), lend me your ears!
Welcome one and all to my very first blog entry! As often occurs when I'm facing a blank screen, I'm completely at a loss for what to say -- which those who know me well will NOT believe!
But I'm online -- and as someone "in the industry" who is always encouraging clients to begin blogging -- it seemed time for me to jump in as well.
My goal here is to keep this blog strictly personal at this time -- and not business related...just thought and musings on my passions in life.
I welcome all commentary and hope to both make some friends and re-acquaint myself with others!
Let the blogging begin!
But I'm online -- and as someone "in the industry" who is always encouraging clients to begin blogging -- it seemed time for me to jump in as well.
My goal here is to keep this blog strictly personal at this time -- and not business related...just thought and musings on my passions in life.
I welcome all commentary and hope to both make some friends and re-acquaint myself with others!
Let the blogging begin!
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