Thursday, December 29, 2011

A late in the year favorite thing...

an awesome silver sharpie!!!! You wouldn't even want to know how many things I've labeled since buying it to write on the back of a photo frame (which it was a pro at too)! Now I'm starting to sound like an advertisement, but really, it's pretty much the most fantastic writing tool ever!

*Photo taken by me.

Saturday, December 24, 2011

I may have missed my calling.

Perhaps I should have been a private investigator. I can scour the web for information like I was born with research tips embedded in my brain. Although, I am not so consumed with myself to think that I got this way all by myself, I realize that I inherited most of these traits from my father. Because he, too, should have been a private investigator. Maybe then we would have a family business centered around finding out all the little, grubby details that one pays people to learn. But in reality we are just nosey inquisitive.

There's a certain thrill I get from searching for information and going from one step to the next in learning the full story. Therefore, anytime someone has an inquiry I take it upon myself to learn as much as I possibly can about that inquiry whether they ask me to or not. Often times, these inquiries don't even want to be answered by the person inquiring...they're just momentarily curious. But not to me they came into my office, sat down at my private investigator desk and filled out a request form listing pertinent details that are required for me to begin my search.

Unfortunately, I am not the best spy. I stink at being inconspicuous, it's just a fact and I've learned to accept it. For instance, when Mr. Ski and I lived in our first home the neighbors across the street had a very explosive relationship. One night, Mr. Ski and I were out on the front porch and heard them yelling and even saw some belongings come flying out the front door. I decided that if I got a little closer I could possibly hear what they were yelling about (there's the nosey inquisitive aspect) so I crept to a tree in our tiny yard and stood behind it while slowly peeking around it every once in awhile trying to see and hear more of what was going on. Mr. Ski loves to make fun of me for this one, because as he tells it the tree I was 'hiding' behind was way thinner than me and definitely did not conceal me as I thought it did. Case and point....I am not good at being stealthy, but put me behind a computer with some of my favorite resources and I will search the web until I produce as much information as your my little heart desires.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

A Tree Tragedy

As you may know, I commute to work. It's a hour drive (one way) and it's one I've been making for almost 5 years, so I'm pretty familiar with the scenery. Once a year or so the highway department sends their tree crew out to sheer back the median and shoulder woods. It's a two step process:
Step one: Cut down the trees. They use a machine that just lays the trees down in a single, perfect very long row.
Step two: Chop up said down trees. They then bring in a wood chopping machine and shred all the downed trees into tiny bits of mulch which they leave on site.

So how can I turn that into something imagining those trees as things with emotions and feelings, of course! So with that in mind something like this occurs to me: Those poor survivor trees. Not only do they have to witness their friends and family being mowed down and then chopped up, now they are also forced to stare at their remains. It's a tree tragedy, I tell you!

You know, if trees had feelings and all.

(I blame part of this piece of my imagination on the movie "Fern Gully" for it was that little fairy, Crysta, who made me realize that trees hurt too! It was also that little fairy that kept 5 of my cousins from ever viewing that movie. Poor things. I bet when they hit 18 they rushed out to see all the movies they weren't allowed to watch growing up...starting with the cartoons!)

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Something worth noting...

Just because you own a Minny* Cooper it does not mean you are required to drive like you're in the Italian Job.

*Misspelled intentionally.