Rescue Me
art = Tea by Mary Cassatt, 1880, oil on canvas
This tip from Janet. Ever lost anything down a sink drain and either lost it forever or had to take the sink apart to retrieve the item? Watch this little video from Family Hack dot com.
Pet fish not wanting to come out and play? I have a betta, and this site is useful.
Bad hair day? Back when I was (ahem) much younger, girls used baby powder on their scalp. I didn’t, because I just couldn’t stand the thought of smelling like a baby’s butt. But girlfriend Debby did, and her hair always looked good. She had extremely oily hair that didn’t do well with constant washing, so she’d shower and wash one day, use the powder the next. Jump ahead years later. Another friend with oily hair, only she uses dry shampoo. Say what? Anyway, she’s using one of these right now, and it seems to be working for her, but read a review from someone who used a dry shampoo (not the one my friend uses, but…I thought it pertinent enough to post):
I've tried the Oscar Blandi stuff. It's expensive, but very much like baby powder. It definitely de-greases the hair, but it turns your scalp white (!) and takes a lot of work to brush out. It makes a big mess too if you're not careful. I think I'd try baby powder first, and if that doesn't work, then maybe move on to a dry shampoo.
Writing…ever want a visual thesaurus? Know what one is? – lol – A writer friend showed me a visual thesaurus, which is basically word mapping (for lack of a better term), but it’s pretty cool.
I know I’m reincarnated—just not sure from what or whom, but I definitely have some ideas that are strange to my generation, my sex, and my place on the planet. When I think of all the above, there’s some smartass part of me that surfaces and whispers…find a man, eat the fish, put your hair in a ponytail or snood or wear a friggin’ cap, and sit down, read, educate yourself if you lack a good vocabulary, and work on your goddamn penmanship or typing skills so you can post some letters…or manuscripts.
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till next time,
Sunny Lyn, The Ancient
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the book shelves
Just finished...a nonfiction called
French Women Don't Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano - thought it was delightful, insightful, witty, and fun - and I'd love to hate the heifer for being a skinny French woman, but...can't. She includes recipes.
SPEAKING OF RECIPES...learned a neat little trick from
Carol Lynne over the weekend. One of those inexpensive packages of Ramen Noodles (chicken flavored) and a couple handfuls of broccoli stems - boil water, toss in the noodles and veggie together (Carol says cauliflower works well, too). Pasta and broccoli are done at the same time. Drain, salt and pepper to taste, and the dish makes an attractive presentation on a plate. You can add chicken or whatever else you like, but it's a tasty and quick dish.
Okay, back to the drawing board. What I am reading now: I have two I'm waffling between digging into. Friend
Carla Cassidy has one that looks good called Broken Pieces. And there's one by
Madeleine Wickham called Cocktails for Three that appeals.
Have food on the brain.
Gretchen and I had lunch Saturday at Fred P. Otts, and I fell in love with their burgers. Here’s a peek at their
menu (it scrolls, so just click the arrow on the right to see what’s what).
Till next time, hope everyone has a pleasant start to their week.
hugs,
Sunny Lyn
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Tweaky & Geeky
"Walk a mile in my shoes....." (channeling Joe South)
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Smoking is indeed a habit, and I'd wondered what people did with their hands when they quit. I have found one thing to be true—they fill them with something else.
Food, for instance. Not me, I decided. I’d fill my palms with the Wii controls and head-butt soccer balls or stand in strange Pilates poses, but chocolate would not melt in my hands or in my mouth.
At least I didn’t smoke in the house the last few years. I mean, once you’ve smoked in the house (where you also eat, right?), you commit unpardonable sins. Smoking and eating were never meant to be joint activities. Lighting a celery frond or dipping a cigarette into ranch dressing is just a no-no.
Sucking or chewing on plastic straws comes to mind. I’ve annihilated at least a straw per day. Gross, you think? No, gross are the stains on my teeth that I never noticed. Gross = the snipes I thought I’d tossed. Never ever in a million jillion years thought that I would re-light a cigarette butt.
Fish. Now I have your attention, don’t I? Well, with cigarettes five to six bucks a pack (and higher in other states, I understand), I had a bit of extra money, so The Girl and I stopped off at a pet store for dog food and those compressed dog bones. And there they were. A rainbow of male betas. I want to type ‘betta’, and my computer keeps changing the word back to ‘beta’. So you choose.
Anyway, Bleu and I (well, he IS blue, and I’m tired of naming characters, so he gets an easy one) are writing mates now. He gapes at me through his watery place on my desk (and I’m sure that there’s some feng shui law that I’ve broken by placing water near anything electronic), and I vent to him during a rough scene or weep during a sad one and he commiserates.
Patches – those all-day suckers that are supposed to keep us from geeking for nicotine? Ever tried them? Ever fallen asleep with one on?! HORRORS. Worse than any acid flashback you had in the sixties or eighties or whenever. Ten times worse. In Technicolor and Surroundsound, at that. I’ve dreamt of everything from kissing ugly people to being one, from having wild animals chase me to not being able to find a bathroom in time. Every childhood terror imaginable has torn through my subconscious to find me if I am wearing a nicotine patch if I decide to nap and forget I have on ‘the patch’.
Other cigarettes. (hanging my head in shame) Damn, but it’s difficult to break this habit. Whine, whine, whine – yeah, I know. But it is damned hard. I like breathing without hacking. I like being able to actually taste my food and smell better, so why the desire to create worse health and havoc in my life?
Going back to writing now…for real. I’ve just completed another novella that seeks a specific home and have been asked for others. I’m not sure why, but the short fiction is easier for me to write during spring and summer months. Maybe I’ll do something different this year, though. Quit smoking, quit complaining, and write 300 pages of something longer instead of looking for the instant gratification.
Wow. Epiphany.
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funnies
The first from Janet: A REAL man's BBQ.
The second one from Mary Ellen, who knows I love nun jokes.
Yes, I'm procrastinating. I've done two chapters in the past three days, though, so I'm due a little fun, right? I've given up chocolate, smoking, and some pretty good rationalizations the past month, and I've only cheated (pick one) a few times. :)
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Kismet Kibbles & Kudos
KUDOS1st KUDO = for fellow friend & author Gerrie Shepard, who wrote the cover story for New Love Stories' premier issue: The Admirer's Secret
2nd KUDO = for Gretchen, who is on chapter 8 (or who knows by now) of her new, intriguing novel that doesn't star Maxine
3rd KUDO= for Heather, who knows why - no, I won't give it away, but let's see how often every friend named Heather that I have will get bugged for the plug *ggg*
4th KUDO = for Jamie, who by all accounts is goin' great guns as an editor
5th KUDO = for moi, for getting 10 good pages done while The Kids are in Oklahoma for another funeral - it's like the 5th one within a few months
* * *
addendum: HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, whether you are one, have one, or just have a special woman or two in your life...celebrate.
KISMET
Shout out to Charles, who outted himself. I like summer, too. And half-naked men pushing lawnmowers - lol. It was nice meeting you.
KIBBLES
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photos from the EC Author Party at RT
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5 Comments:
Reincarnated, eh? That's an intriguing thought. My mother has always insisted, since she was a child, that she was Jew gassed during the war in her last life. (We're not Jewish, which makes her belief all the more bizare - but she is adament.)
I went to a fortune-teller once who told me I had lived before in Old New Orleans, had been poor, and had died of pneumonia. So much for being the reincarnation of Cleopatra...
I tell ya, after watching "Sophie's Choice" years ago, the thought of some prior lives scared the shit out of me - lol. Who knows? Maybe your mother is right. Guess we'll all find out some day, heh?
As for your poor life in N.O., at least you made up for that in this one. :) You have a lovely family and home, and you've led a fascinating life, no? I think I could live vicariously from some of your photos and tales - lol.
I think you were a famous photographer in at least one life, back when sepia prints were in vogue and later when women traveled to Egypt not as the companion but as the archeologist commissioned to find treasures and unearth history's secrets.
Yeah. I like my version better than the fortune-teller's. *smirk* One thing's for sure, Ms Sam - either you were gifted with a tremendous imagination, or you are recalling some things. Cell memory, perhaps? (I just turned in a book dealing with cell memory - wish me luck - new publisher if they bite.) At any rate, the thought that there were/are princes and princesses, magical things and places...it's rather comforting.
When psychics or fortune-tellers grab my hand, they tell me I'm from another star or planet. *sigh* It confuses the hell out of me, because they usually hit on a high note at least once or twice and make me go hmm a few time or even WOW now and then. So when I get the news that I'm alien, not just foreign, it kinda throws me.
hugs, woman - great to see you.
I love that visual thesaurus. And I wanna know about the cell memory manuscript!
well, liz...you as a CP just might get a copy - lol. i more or less whizzed through it and sent it off without any crits (ack), but i'm sure i should have gotten 'em.
(ducking) will send ASAP.
That visual thesaurus is pretty cool, but not as cool as the idea of reincarnation. I've been reading a lot about karma and dharma lately. I never really considered reincarnation as plausible until now.
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