The Cool Kids

Friday, February 15, 2019

Fly On The Wall, February 2019: Say My Name

Welcome to the February Fly on the Wall Group Challenge. This month, 5 brave bloggers and I are describing what it would be like if you were to take a peek inside our homes...

Have a "look" around mine, and then go visit the other blogger's pages. There's always something fun, sentimental, or better yet, embarrassing going on. It's like your house, only we're admitting to the craziness. You have our permission. Buzz on over!


Since I've missed oh, 36 months of this challenge I wanted to think a bit more broadly. During my absence, A fly on the wall would have heard me get called a lot of names around my house (I'll leave that up to your imagination.)  I thought I'd share a few of my favorites:

World's Best Mom: You think I'm kidding, right?  I really do get called this by my children! I mean, it's only when they need something, but still...

Any of my children: "Would you mind babysitting/ paying for my project/ buying me a new jersey/ making me a costume/ providing this last minute ride, treats, school supplies, organ donation...etc?" 
If I say no, I might get called a different name, but I digress. If I say yes, I get a "Thanks!" and get called, "World's Best Mom". 
My response: "Well, if I am, where is my trophy?"  
It's usually followed by a chuckle. Or a "Sure mom, whatever. But you're still doing that thing for me, right?"
One day last year the UPS driver delivered this. I'm keeping it forever. (as proof). I only cried for three days months straight after receiving it. Now, if I can only figure out a way to stick it on a "Hello My Name is..." tag. I'd wear it everywhere. BTW, When I thanked the child who sent it? They told me to call them, "My favorite child".  Nothing is free, people.
I'm supposed to keep this by my front door and show EVERYBODY, right?

Dork: Ugh. I hate that word. I always have. Knowing this, my best friend decided all on her own that "Dork" would be my name. I affectionately call her "Loser," so I guess it all evens out. We often drop off things for each other in our mailboxes: Borrowed books, jewelry, treats or ransom notes. They're always labeled, "Dork" or "Loser."  One day  I get a mailbox emoji on my phone, and I know what that means; Loser has left me something. I finish what I'm doing and run out to open the mailbox. All that's inside is a mailer with coupons. When I call "Loser" up to ask what she meant by the emoji, she tells me she left a plate of my favorite Amish cookies for me with a note: "Hey Dork, don't eat these all at once. Love Ya!"  Yep. The mailman beat me (very legally, I know.) to the mailbox. He took the cookies. And now I know two things. (besides the fact that I missed out on cookies) My mailman thinks I think he's a dork, and apparently, I now love him! Awesome.

Gramma Shel: Yes, dear friends, I'm a Grandma! Last May, Alex and Micah (my daughter and her husband) adopted two perfect (my correct opinion) boys.  "A." is six and "S." is four. Did I mention they're perfect? If I taught in Elementary Education for all of those years only to collect counting bears and a million books, it was worth it just to entertain and play with these babies. Mark and I are in love with them and the best part? We can give "A." and "S." anything they want and still send them home at the end of the day.
The man and I have it made. "A." likes technology, and "S." likes reading...novels?

Michael: How hard is it to pronounce my name? I've mentioned this before. My name is Michele. Only one "l". Yet telemarketers and door-to-door salesmen still ask for "Michael". 
"Is Mark or Michael there?" they ask. 
"No, they're out on a lovely walk right now," I say.
"Who am I speaking to?" they continue.
"This is Michele."
"OK," they say. "Could you have Mark or Michael call/get back to us when they get home?"
"Sure thing, Jellybean." No complaints from me.

My first wife: My regular readers know this is what the man calls me. OK, truth be told, the exact words he uses aren't printable. But you get the gist. I get an idea about home improvement, he says we should call a professional. I say we will have fun doing it ourselves and he asks, "Who's WE?" 

Wife #2 is going to like everything just the way I made it, right?

Whatever name you go by, Have a Happy Friday, Friends!
Please check out this month's participants:

Friday, February 8, 2019

Use Your Words February 2019!

Hey-O friends! Where in the world have you been? I've missed you!

Today’s post is a writing challenge created by Karen @ Baking in A TornadoThis is how it works: 9 participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge and there's a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who received their words or in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post, you’ll find links to the other blogs featured in this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they were given and how they used them.

My words are:
love ~ like ~ live ~ list ~ level

They were submitted by Karen @ Baking In a Tornado!!

Here we go:

Pattern Stories#5

Photo Property of Dominion Simplicity Patterns LTD

Janet: I called and cried to my grandma for at least two hours. I was afraid she might give me an "I told you so" lecture after I shared my hot mess of a semi-blind date.  Grams warned me six months ago that I was headed for heartbreak when I told her I was writing back and forth with a man named Roger. She said that you can't get to know someone until you've looked them in the eyes. I can't believe how right she was.

Last summer, an acquaintance at my real estate job said that her cousin Roger was thinking of moving to our city. She wondered if I wouldn't mind sending him some information about recreational activities and places of interest to visit. I was happy to. I stuffed an envelope full of pamphlets from the city, along with a small note to let Roger know he'd have a friend if and when he decided to move here.

To my surprise, Roger wrote back to me within the week. He saw my photo in one of our directory pamphlets and told me all about himself. He worked for Americorps and wanted to tell me all about it when I saw him. Also, he included a small photo of himself in his blue pajamas, drinking tea. He said that it was his favorite way to spend time when he wasn't at work or sailing his large boat.

For the next six months, we wrote back and forth. Twice we spoke on the phone. I told him a lot about the city at first, but more about my personal self as time went by. We talked about everything from our love of various foods to my nasty tennis elbow, to his naturally wavy hair. 

Finally, I got the call I had been waiting for. Roger was coming to town! He was having his boat shipped to our bay and wanted to meet me on one of the docks in two weeks. My heart never stopped pounding as he listed off all of the wonderful adventures we'd take together. I told him I'd send a photo of an outfit I'd just made. It sounded corny, but I'd wear it to the dock so he'd recognize me immediately. 

Could I be in love with someone I hadn't met face to face? Didn't I know more about Roger now than some couples who've dated two or three times? My grandma warned me. More than once. She said he sounded too good to be true. I was angry that she didn't trust my level of maturity. I knew exactly what I was getting into. But, like I said, Grams knew exactly what she was talking about.

Roger and I met at two o'clock that Sunday right where we said we would. I brought a friend to photograph us the moment we met. The moment where the rest of my life would start. It was a good thing he recognized me because I couldn't see anyone who resembled my Roger. Then, there he was in front of me.

I wouldn't have known him at all if not for his voice. And the fact that he was wearing the EXACT same jacket as me but in blue. What was going on? He said he wanted us to match when we met. Holy Hannah. The dark natural wavy hair I'd seen in his photo for so long smelled badly of an Ogilvie home perm. He looked nothing like my Roger. Seeing my shock, he decided to speak quickly about the photo being taken a really long time ago. Bologna. He sent me a photo of someone else. That wasn't even the only lie he made up.

When he said he worked for Americorp, he said he meant American Way. "Amway". When Roger said he wanted to tell me all about his job, he meant getting me involved in it. He said we'd be rich! Only in my phone call to Grandma did I understand it was a pyramid scheme. 

And that huge sailing boat he had shipped to our bay? It got around not by sails, but by two oars. It could have fit on the top of his car. I told him he was a liar; that he had made a fool of me, and that I never wanted to see him again. And I haven't. That acquaintance at work said that he decided not to live the city after all.

After the call with Grandma, I'm starting to feel a bit better. It will take a long time before I trust anyone with my heart. I do think Grams put this situation into perspective(as she always does) by summing up this whole experience:

 "Janet", she said, "You're going to be okay. We've lived by the bay for a long time. You need to remember to NEVER take a man's word about the size of his boat. Not to be crass, but just between you and me, when everything is uncovered, that "large boat' they talk about? Well, It's (more often than not) going to be nothing but a small dinghy."

Photo Property of Butterick Pattern Service-Canada 1970s

Happy "Keeping it honest" day, Friends!
Don't forget to check out the other cool kids participating in the Use Your Words challenge:

              Baking In a Tornado
              Wandering Web Designer
              Cognitive Script
              Southern Belle Charm    
              The Bergham Chronicles
              On the Border
              Part-Time Working Hockey Mom  
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