Hopefully, your worst date wasn't as bad as this image suggests... Although, it wouldn't surprise me if it was because I'll believe anything after what I've experienced...
Welcome to my eighteenth Tuesdays Question! I can't believe I've posted a Tuesday's Question for eighteen weeks in a row, with the exception of September 11th, a painful memory in the mind of my countrymen.
That being said, I would like to announce an idea I've been rolling around in my zany brain...for a celebration post in honor of Tuesday's Question, on or by my twenty first question.
Like maybe a contest... where I can actually give away a prize and brag badges to my readers with the most comments...and recognize those of you who have been so supportive over the last eighteen weeks, or I guess it will be the twentieth week by then...
In any event, it's not far away, and next week I'll have a better idea of where I'm going after brainstorming... I just wanted to put a bug in your ear... wait a minute...I don't mean an actual bug in your ear... yuck, that's a gross expression isn't it? Although, that would make a pretty good Tuesday's Question, "Have you ever had a bug in your ear?" Because, I actually did have a bug in my ear once ... you feel a soft buzzing vibration against your ear drum, ....oh come to think of it it's awful. It happened to me when I was a child...my mother poured alcohol in my ear and I guess it drown or something...
I'm sorry, I went off track, (maybe I've had too long a run with these questions) back to Tuesday's Question, which by the way I usually answer before requesting your comments. However, if you'll refer to my last post you'll read my explanation for running late, which is also the reason I 'll be post my answer along with your comments in tomorrows post.
I'm sorry for my rude temperamental computer, who had it's own plans this morning and forced me to post Tuesday's Question so late in the day.
I can't wait to read your comments in response to:
What Was The Worst Date Of Your Life?
Stop for Tuesday's Question? I sat at my desk ready to work at 8 am my time, (crazy time) and my computer refused to cooperate . The PC box said something about needing to be up-dated and being low on memory...excuse me? I'm low on memory everyday....what kind of hair brained excuse is that? Then, as if it hadn't already added insult to injury, the arrogant box head stayed on the same screen refusing to move until I agreed to comply with it's instructions! It was war...and I don't know who declared it...all I know is that it took up my entire morning! This proves that computers are too temperamental to replace people, and cannot be trusted...ever...
In any event we've worked it out and I will post Tuesday's Question shortly....so please consider coming back in a little while? I promise it will be fun, and I haven't let you down yet, have I?
Oh ...maybe I shouldn't ask that question...
I wanted to post a scene in Mr.Hollands Opus, where the character portrayed by Jean Louisa Kelly sings this Gershwin tune, but the video keep skipping- so I posted her performing it on what I'm guessing is David Letterman- the video didn't offer a clue. Jean Kelly's version is one of the best version's of Someone To Watch Over Me that I've ever heard. Anyway, Saturday's favorite movie moment is a scene in Mr Hollands Opus in which the character she portrays performs this tune.
Have a happy Saturday and I will post again before the end of the week-end.
Enjoy your day~
"Mommy, just how much do you love me?" a little boy asked his mother in the beginning of I love you more, by Laura Duksta and Karen Keesler. That is, it's a line asked in one beginning, because there's two sides to every story, and two beginnings to this book. Therefore, that line is in one beginning, but if you flip the book over this line is in the beginning, "A mother turned to her son and asked, "So, just how much do you love me?"
This touching tale is told from mother and son's perspective, that is with both declaring their love for each other beginning on opposite sides of the book. Their stories end in the middle on a beautiful double page spread with an illustration of the globe. The globe has this passage around it- "I love you more than anything in the world."
The illustrations are bold and alive detailing the individual characters down to the birds and trees that Laura Duksta metaphorically uses to represent the characters devotion to each other. The sing song rhythm of the verse sets a warm and happy atmosphere, drawing the reader into this mother and child's warm reassuring routine. A routine that perhaps parents, grandparents and caregivers everywhere will emulate with their children. Illustrator Karen Keesler and author Laura Duksta work beautifully together blending text and illustration into a warm and inviting tale. A story that reminds us how important it is to love each other and how to tell each other we care in a positive way.
For example, it's one thing for a boy to say, "I love you Mommy" but when he also says, "I love you quieter than the quietest caterpillar ever seen." it's another. On the other hand, (or flip side) the same can be said for Momma. Because it's one thing for a momma to say "I love you son." but when she also says, "I love you prettier than the prettiest flower ever found." it's another.
This is a fantastic children's picture book with as much to teach grown-ups as children. A real find, a great read, and a must have for all parents, grandparents, caretakers, friends, ...
Because love comes with different stories told from different perspectives ending with each other in the same place...
My hats off to Laura Duksta and Karen Keesler and Sourcebooks for sending me a review copy to review for my readers. I loved it!
Christy, from Christy's Coffee Break tagged me with her Freaky Friday meme in September, as embarrassing as that it is to admit. It took me this long to respond because I couldn't think of one weird or interesting thing that happened to me, until I found this old picture of my grandmothers Azalea bush. This is a story I've never told anyone.
This meme was written with the option to tag, but if you have a bizarre memory I would suggest you write about it. Because I may not have remembered this experience if I hadn't been wondering what to write for this meme, and I'm glad I remembered. In addition, it would be sad to see this meme die out just because no one can think of anything. So do some brain storming and try to think of a bizarre experience that happened to you, I think you'll be glad you did.
The Laughing Azaleas
My grandmother’s house rested behind a circular driveway made of gravel. I remember the gravel changing the color of my bicycle tires when I was a child... Those little white shells used for driveways do the same thing, except the tires change a white chalky color instead of rusty gravel. My grandmother Nana's house and yard were paradise and to me concrete evidence that heaven existed. The three-acre wonderland was everything a twelve-year-old child needed to find satisfaction in his/her surroundings. I spent as much time in Nana’s yard as possible, although I knew she would put me to work before the end of the day. However, the sheer pleasure of being in her fabulous yard was more than enough compensation for picking up sticks and raking leaves all afternoon. My siblings and I found pure joy in everything we did there. Whether we were playing games, climbing trees, or working, it was an environment perfumed with the intoxicating smells of magnolia blossoms and azalea bushes. In addition, within the branches of the trees lay the excitement of whatever new Louisiana wildlife creature we had recently decided to adopt. After all, everything has to eat and the yard belonged as much to the animals as the rest of us.
That is for animals, because I didn't feel the same way about insects, even if they are living things, and I wished they didn't populate bushes. Especially since Nana’s job for me meant rescuing the azalea bushes from the honey suckle vines suffocating grasp. Suffering from agoraphobia in the South was a nightmare within itself, so I was already ear marked as a sissy because of my paralyzing fear of insects, especially spiders, by the time I became a yard worker. I spent one weekend grounded after spending the night at Nana’s with a friend. My crime was letting out a blood-curdling scream one Saturday morning, after my friend woke me pointing to the most terrifying spider ever invented above my head!
My agoraphobia was beginning to cause problems for me, especially on my job at Nana's, due to the fear of running into my spider friend again. The problem progressed to the point where every time I worked in the yard, I let out blood curtailing screams imaging spiders falling on me, no doubt a flashback from that fateful morning.
Hence, by the time I heard voices in the bushes one day, my grandmother had grown accustomed to my blood curdling screams. The day in question is the day I heard laughing from within an azalea bush under attack. It was a bush closest to the road; in fact, the bush would've been directly on the road, if not for the ditch between the bushes and the yard. Just think of everything lined up in this order: the front yard, the bushes, other foliage, a ditch, then the road.
I was supposed to pull the honey suckle vines from the bushes then carry them to an old well we used to burn weeds and sticks. But I wanted to keep as much distance from the creatures as possible, so I'd grab a vine and run in the opposite direction until it broke away from the bush- I would repeat this action until the vine released it's grip on the bush and set it free. But, every time I repeated this procedure, I could see Nana becoming more aggravated with me for making a big mess of the rest of the yard. I prayed I would get finished before she finally lost patience with me and completely let go of her composure.
This was my routine: grab a vine, turn around, and run! Grab a vine, turn around, and run!
That is until the fateful day in question, when I heard what sounded like voices coming from the foliage on the other side of the bush. Actually, I heard a child’s laugh that was so real I thought it was a friend of mine watching me from the street. Excited about who came to visit, I walked inside the foliage, which resembled a little forest, only to find it empty, not a soul was there. I shouted my friend’s name: “Ellen?” Dead silence, one of those eerily dead silences, coupled with the shivery feelings of being alone in the dense foliage. What followed was the best blood curdling screams I've summoned to this day! I couldn’t stop screaming; I was so scared I couldn’t find my way out of the foliage and onto the other side of the bushes. I could see my grandmother running from the porch, shouting, “Be still, Ann. Be still! “
She told me later that she thought I had been bitten by a snake. She also led me to some old steps three or so feet from the sound of the laugh. The steps led to a house built before Nana’s which burned down some seventy-five to one-hundred years before.
Was it the imagination of an imaginative already-petrified child, maybe, or the laughter from one a hundred years before?
I found this magnificent noodle while cooking dinner tonight. I wonder what this could mean. This royal noodle could mean that good or bad luck is on the way... I’ve decided its good luck because it resembles a horseshoe.
This week I found a moth above my doorway, and walked through a few cobwebs... both of which mean you will acquire money, and that would be good luck.
Yep, good things are on the way, that must be what this magnificent noodle is trying to tell me. Why else would I find such a magnificent noodle?
I'm a part of the Mimi Writes Peace Globe Project thanks to Paula from Polliwog's Pond. I've noticed these peace globes on other bloggers blogs, but I didn't know much about the project. Until Paula offered to make a peace globe for me, and make a peace globe she did, a beautiful peace globe. Thanks to Polli's generosity and friendship I have a peace globe for my blog with the inscription of my sunshine, and one of my favorite inspirational quotes.
I copied and pasted the quote The Pilgrim for you to read along with another favorite, by Peter Straub. I think that creating and maintaining friendship is a great way to make our own personal contributions to world peace- and Polli and Mimi are doing a fine job of showing us how.
Thank you Polli, I think the globe is great and I love the inspirational quote, Peace Pilgrim
"While we watch the storm clouds gather and prepare for the storm, let us never forget that the sun still shines behind those dark clouds and may somehow break through before the storm descends. I see sunshine in the real desire for peace in the hearts of humanity, even though the human family gropes toward peace blindly, not knowing the way. "
I've included another favorite by --Peter Straub--
"A real soul is something you make by walking through fire. By keeping on walking, and by remembering how it felt."
--- Peter Straub --
Here's the comment I've been trying to leave on Bitki Brennan
Brennan, You have the correct link on A Nice Place In The Sun, but the comment was left by Misty with My Dogs Keep Me Sane. It wouldn't let me list her link, but it's on my post.
Her comment was followed by a compassionate remark from Sandee at Comedy Plus, and her link is on my blog as well.
I couldn't be happier and more appreciative of your post. This kind of linking was my original intention behind writing the weekly post Tuesday's Question. It's great to see one blogger offer another recognition, especially when it's in response to such a heartfelt passage.
I know both of these bloggers will be as delighted as I am by your discovery of this post.
I will link the post on A Nice Place In The Sun back to this one, as well as mention it to these bloggers.
Thank you Brennan
If you would like to visit Brennan's post here's the link.
Yesterday was the sixteenth question that I've asked as part of Tuesday's Questions-a post question and link party I've been posting every Tuesday. I'm having a blast, mainly because of my readers and friends heartfelt contributions. You are in a spectacular group of people, who for the last sixteen weeks have contributed warmth and fun to this weekly post. All of you are the ingredients responsible for the flavor of Tuesday's Question. By offering honest, thoughtful, and most of all heartfelt comments every week, every reader who answers a question is helping build A Nice Place In The Sun. - a figure of speech meant to metaphorically represent the warm atmosphere created by friendship. These post questions are gracefully carried by each of you each week, and I thank you. And your charm certainly couldn't have been more apparent yesterday when I asked, the following question, What is your first memory?
I found the following comments some of the most touching I've read since I've been blogging. But, you can judge for yourself; here is my unbelievably impressive friends and fellow bloggers comments, ...well actually their post-
The first Comment is from Marja, at Dutchcorner
Oh ann what a lovely picture I like it far better than photo's taken when everybody is dressed up. and how much the boy (your brother?) on the picture looks like your son and a pretty mum you have. Your first memory was a bit scary. Mine too in a different way than. I remember my mum had too drag me over the street to get me too preschool for the first time. I completely refused. The nuns at that school just let me cry for a while sitting outside the playroom on a bench. Than I peeked into the door and thought oh this isn't that bad. Have a great day.
Misty at My Dogs Keep Me Sane
I turned two on June 26, and on July 4, my dad took me to my grandparents to live. I remember him coming around to the side of the truck, opening the door, and sitting me down. I then toddled over to my grandparents who were sitting on a porch swing. I climbed up into their laps and watched my dad pull out the driveway. I don't remember any of the other events of that day, though.
Sandee at ComedyPlus
I remember being very little, probably around three or four, and my mom and dad (both have passed away) telling me that they could see Santa Claus in the Christmas tree. Everytime I looked he wasn't there. They were tricking me, but I loved it. This continued on for many years. I did the same thing to my son when he was little.
Great question Ann. You really made us think on this one. Have a great day. :)
Sandee's kind words to Misty;
A big hug to Misty Dawn. That is so sad. :)
Eric, from Speedcat Hollydale Page
Great stories! I have never sat on an ant hill, and it sounds like this is a good thing.
I faintly remember the day when my real Grandfather (my mother was raised by his brother) gave me a record player. I used it until I was at least 8. Every record I played reminded me of him. It was a very special gift from a special man.
Eric "Speedcat Hollydale"
Shinade at The Painted Veil
What a lovely picture and what a lovely idea to share memories. I was so pleased to meet you in chat last night. I have heard so much about you and now I can see why. I absolutely love it here. I will definitely be visiting as often as I can.
Of course as I am blogging on the road with my hubby my visit time is limited right now. So please forgive me for not being able to get by everyday. And as I was raised in the south also. I am well aware of those horrid ant beds and their awful stings.
You have an absolutely elegant blog,
Eat Your Maths
It isn't an ugly picture!!! I can figure which was you, beware, Lol!
Well mine was simple. I was about 3,and Mum was about to bring me out- she left me to take my shoes and wear them. Well, it's not such a difficult job.
However, I steadily (and confidently) slipped my teeny weeny feet into the wrong shoe! Left into right, and right into left.
My mum came to change it for me. Simple but true.
I was also scanning through (no reference to the scaner, lol!) my photos- when I was 4 and in Nursery, my mom took a photo of me pinching a girl's cheeks affectionately, LOL! Almost landed in jail. Just kiding, heh..
I wonder why, was always one of the cutest kids when I was young. SO diferent from now, lol ;p
Diamondssaphire from Nonsense, fun, Tears, Happiness & Anger All Rolled Into One
Oddly enough, I was still a baby, about a year old. (maybe a little older.) But I remember it like it was yesterday, as if I was an adult. (So this makes sense, I am adopted) I was living in a foster home, I was in my crib and I can remember a girl, she was very pretty, maybe in her late teens, with dark hair and a soft spoken voice picking me up and holding me like she was never going to let go.
Even as I think about it now as I type, she seemed to have alot love radiating from her and very angelic.
I could never really understand it and and up until I was 17 I kept it to myself. I remember telling my mom about it and I can still rememeber the look on her face and she all she could say was "That was the foster mother's daughter."
To this day I don't know why I remember it, my mom thinks it maybe the first time I felt love, but even at 31 years old, when I think about that one memory, I feel calm and at peace. It's weird, very weird, something I still don't ubderstand and probably never will.
Patois from Whee! All The Way Home
Outing myself as 46 with this memory of nearly 44 years ago. We were in Massachusetts. My grandmother and mother were both crying. I'd never seen such a sight. My older siblings and I were placed in front of the TV to watch some children's show. I don't know what. All the adults were quite distraught. John Kennedy had been assassinated.
Dawn from Twisted Sister
Ann that is lovely family photo!
I'm not sure what my earliest memory is... I remember the smell of arrowroots and apple juice in Kindergarten... oh and the smell of wet clay. I remember my mother teaching me to cross the street alone and feeling so grown up. It's hard to pin point an actual first memory though. Great question!
Thanks again to all of you!
What is your first memory?
My immediate family is going to kill me for this picture! And I hope you will forgive me for all of these old black and whites I've been posting lately. I've been going through my mothers old photos, baby books, graduation pictures, wedding dresses, etc...
My father popped into town a few weeks ago and surprised me with a new scanner and it's wonderful. My other scanner died and went to live in scanner heaven, and I was sad, but now, I'm happy again thanks to a really great Dad. This is a picture of my first memory, only kidding, but, it is a picture of my family caught off guard one morning by a local photographer. My mother was furious because it was so early in the morning she hadn't had time to get us all dressed. Incidentally she will kill me for posting this picture.
Anyway, I thought it would work nicely with this Tuesday's Question which is;
What is your First Memory?
In addition, I wanted to make a few announcements before I quickly answer the 16th Tuesday’s Question! I cannot believe I’ve asked sixteen questions since starting Tuesday’s Question. When I went through my archives last night to make sure I wasn’t duplicating a question I was floored when I saw what number we're on.
Therefore, I decided I need to thank my loyal contributors by doing three things in your honor. First, I’m going to make an honorable mention link list or blogroll for the bloggers who have faithfully participated in Tuesday’s Question since the beginning. Second, I 'm making an ongoing honorable mention list with its very own page, and link to each blog. And last (I have to figure this one out) I’m going to add a suggestions form for suggested questions. I thought that after sixteen weeks we needed a change to keep the party going.
What do you think? I know you can't answer this fragmented question or any other question "live" in real time, but feel free to discuss it in comments with each other and me. Because Tuesday’s Question belongs to all of you who stop by and leave a comment every Tuesday, thereby making the question more fun to answer.Here Is My First Memory:
I was three or four years old:
My brothers ran ahead of me all of the time when we were outside playing. I guess they were trying to lose their "bad" little sister. We lived at the end of a dead end street, with a circular drive at the end, which we referred to as "the circle." "The Circle" was an empty lot with trees and dirt on it, like an island in the middle of a street. One morning, when my mothers back was turned, I followed my brothers out the door and down the street on their way to the circle. I ran behind them as fast as my legs would allow, but the meanies lost me anyway. I remember sitting down on the island dirt and noticing my legs turning red from running, and I wondered why? Then they started stinging and I couldn't understand why or what was hurting me. I began slapping my legs trying to make the stinging stop, and screaming with my eyes so full of tears I couldn't see where I was ... I remember feeling terror, followed by relief, when I felt my mom scoop me in her arms, and carry me to the hose on the side of our house.
Evidently, I sat in an ant bed! I've never known which event was my actual first memory. Was it my brothers running ahead of me, noticing my legs were red, or the ants? However, none of them are particularity good memories, are they? Well, at least my mother realized I followed my brothers and came looking for me. And now years later I put her picture up on my website, that was taken before she'd had her morning coffee. Motherhood is hard.
What is your First Memory?
This past Saturday I played this favorite movie moment from Notting Hill with sound was down. I thought something was wrong with the video so I replaced it with Micheal J. Fox's Back To The Future skateboard scene. Many of you thought you were losing your marbles when you returned to find a different movie. Well, I've had a few special readers ask what happened to this clip, so I decided to see what would happen if I played it again.
Happy Monday and Smile! I hope you enjoy it!
Can you tell the difference between a real and fake smile? And what's going on in the mind of a person when they're smiling?
While sitting at a reading table in the children's department of Barnes and Noble yesterday, I noticed an employee watching me out of the corner of her eye.
She acted as if she had to keep an eye on me, because I had plans to rob the place, and had a getaway driver in the parking lot. Then she walked over to where I was sitting, flashed a fake smile, and began to wipe the table. There was something about this employees fake smile that made me think of my third grade teacher Miss Keysler, and the picture I posted the other day. I was surprised at how kind and sweet Miss Keysler looked in the photo. The picture reflected a different Miss Keysler than I remembered. Was my memory playing tricks on me?
I couldn’t tell whether Miss Keysler’s smile was fake or genuine, although when I got home and magnified the picture, there was no doubt, it's genuine. I guess my ten-year-old perception of her was off, especially since she made me stand in the back of the classroom after I blew Dexter’s whistle. Incidentally, I left Barnes and Noble, and gave up reading Puff the Magic Dragon, after a few more fake smiles from Miss Thundercloud. I thought about Miss Keysler’s smile in my car on the way home. What was I picking up about Miss Keysler from her body language and smile in person, that wasn’t reflected in the picture? What I mean to say is, her smile in the picture is a reflection of how she was feeling or thinking when that picture was taken. Therefore, our smiles are a reflection of how we are feeling and thinking inside but not necessarily saying aloud. I guess that’s what they mean by a photographers eye or insight into the perfect moment or camera angle. According to the BBC Science and Nature web site I looked up when I got home, most people cannot distinguish between a fake and genuine smile. The web sites article states; “it may be easier for people too get along if they don’t know how others are feeling,” so maybe that's why people can't readily tell the difference between a fake or real grin. I read this in the article posted after a test to see how well developed your fake and genuine smile radar works, entitled Spot The Fake Smile. I scored 16 out of twenty, which I think is good. Therefore, I think that many people can tell when a smile is fake or genuine.
The BBC Science and Nature web site gives clues on how to distinguish between a real smile opposed to a fake one, in addition to suggesting that our subconscious and conscious mind play a key role. Here is their suggestion:
“Fake smiles can be performed at will, because the brain signals that create them come from the conscious part of the brain and prompt the zygomaticus major muscles in the cheeks to contract.Genuine smiles, on the other hand, are generated by the unconscious brain, so are automatic. When people feel pleasure, signals pass through the part of the brain that processes emotion.”
I thought of this passage when I zoomed in on my classmates smiles...
When I copied the picture the other day I didn't notice their expressions, so I didn’t remember the other children as well as I did when I zoomed in on their faces. It's as if they were stuck somewhere in my sub-conscious...
You can tell our personalities by the look on our faces, or how we may have been feeling that day. I know you can find the mean girl and Dexter looks angry doesn't he? And me, I look like the sun's in my eyes, but none of our faces look fake. If anything, they just look like we all want to go to recess, with the exception of Miss Keysler, of course...although on second hand... she probably wanted to go to recess more than we did.
In closing how well can you judge a fake or genuine smile? Here’s the link to the test, let me know how you do, o.k.? Remember if someone smiles at you quickly it's probably fake, whereas if it's spontaneous it's real, I think. Take this test it's really cool. I can't wait to see how you do. Thanks for reading, and have fun!
I haven't officially announced this but you may have noticed that every Saturday I've been posting favorite movie moments, while I recharge my creative battery! I hope you enjoy this scene from
Back To The Future when Michael J.Fox takes some bullies on the ride of their life!
Thank you for stopping by and I'll have an exciting week of fresh posts here for you when you return. Again, I hope you enjoy the video. Have a great weekend.
Me Mean girl in yellow Dexter
(Get a load of my hair)
This is my third grade classroom, the scenery of my first post(after "read more" below) to receive a lot of comments. The popularity of the post has remained consistent throughout my months of blogging. Maybe because it's about a first crush, even if the theme is recyclable. I guess people can relate because we never forget our first crush. I noticed when I read the comments that we seldom forget our first loves name, others things , but not their name. For example, I forgot what Dexter looked like until I went through my mothers pictures last weekend looking for him.
I decided to repost this post to celebrate and thank google for my first report card.(PR page rank) You know, third grade, report card, I know it's corny, but I also bought a new scanner and found a picture of Dexter. In addition, I wanted to publicly thank my best friend Christy, from Christy's Coffee Break for encouraging me to blog and for letting me in on the good news from Google. If you're a beginning blogger be sure and check out Christy's Blogging tips every Tuesday, it pays off. I've been lucky to have more experienced bloggers in addition to Christy, take me under their wing since I first signed in on blogger. For instance, Sandee at Comedy Plus, and Dawn at Twisted Sister's friendship has been an invaluable treasure while launching, A Nice Place In The Sun, including all of you that visit often and comment every day. Thank you for your support and friendship (I hope you know who you are) and you most certainly have mine in return.
I've been checking and rechecking the toolbar all week, and I'm grateful to google for such a nice report card. Although it isn't as valuable (sorry google) as your friendship and the support of my readers. Alright I'll stop with the mushiness, and let you go to meet my classroom or read the comments, unless you're out of time now from the length of this post. I've encircled some of the characters in the post with the exception of Mrs. Keysler, of course, you can tell who she is without a circle.
Please enjoy my memory of Dexter, my first love, the mean girl who called me dumb, my third grade teacher, and a whistle.
Do you remember your first childhood crush? Mine was on a boy named Dexter, in my third grade class.
I don't remember much about him, or what he looked like, except that he loved to draw, and drew a perfect Charlie Brown. Dexter sat across from me in class, so I watched him draw everyday, while I thought about other things instead of listening to our teacher. When our third grade teacher lectured, all I heard was a voice reminiscent of the adult voices in the Charlie Brown television specials. In other words, I heard, bloc, bloc, bloc, roll off her tongue most of the day. To me, she just rambled a bunch of jumbled grown-up words, that we "bright-eyed and bushy tailed" third graders, hadn't the slightest interest in. Her name was Mrs. Keysler, and she wore those cat-eyed sixties glasses with a chain that jangled when she walked, so we could here her coming at recess. Anyhow, one day while Dexter was drawing, and I was staring at him, my heart thumping around in my chest, I noticed a new shiny whistle on the top of his desk, and when I asked him if I could look at, he put it in my hand. Our teacher continued speaking in the background, bloc, bloc, bloc, bah, bloc… as I turned the whistle over and over in my hand. Then I took the whistle, put it up to my mouth, and blew it as hard as I could! The room fell silent.
After which, I heard the hushed sound of children’s voices fill the empty silence, followed by that snickering sound children make before they start pointing fingers! It's such an annoying tactic among tattlers, whose goal at this time in their life, is to retire as the teachers pet! I could feel the stares, and of course, see their self-serving tattler fingers rise to the occasion, and point in my direction! I heard one little girl cry, “She is sooo dumb!” I just sat there, horrified, as my face grew hot and flushed with humiliation. I thought of this story when thinking of what to write as part of an “about me” profile for a writer’s social community. I was thinking of why I became a writer…, which is another post, that lends a reference to how important a role I think teachers play, in helping us shape our self image; so I guess I was thinking of my teachers, and for some reason Dexter popped into my head!
Anyway, that's what I remember about my first crush; one of those funny to me now, not so funny then, experiences, especially since my teacher made me stand in the back of the classroom the rest of the day!
After that, Dexter (who may have turned out to be an illustrator) looked at me with a cautious look on his face, for what seemed like the rest of my life, and the girl who called me “soooo dumb”, turned out to be one of my closest friends! We never know what our children are going through in a day, or experiencing with their first crush, do we?
I’ll have to ask my son about his experience with his first crush. Do you remember yours?
I was so proud of the comments I received from this post. Here's the link.
Motherhood is an art impossible to explain, one which requires a vast sea of love, devotion, compassion, and understanding, unmatched by any affection we will ever know again.- Ann Clemmons
Words are the core of our souls, without written, vocal or lyrical expression we lose sight of one another or worse, ourselves. Words bring forth the essence of the human spirit; so express yourself without abandon.
Beatrix Potter’s Journal, 17 November 1896, from the National Trust collection.
Alone in her world
of make believe
weaving her stories
of magic and light
She brings joy
to the eyes
of innocent minds
less jaded and free
For only they know
what's in her heart
holding the secrets
she guards so well
Life's hidden mysteries
belong to those
whose wisdom and truth
shine on in imagination
Written for Ann
Of The Horoscope Junkie
Whenever you feel like criticizing any one,” he told me, “just remember that all the people in this world haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.”'
F. Scott Fitzgerald. (Lines from The Great Gatsby)
"A Southerner Talks Music"
"A book must be the ax for the frozen sea inside us."
An author values a compliment even when it comes from a source of doubtful competency.
- Mark Twain in Eruption
"I like a good story well told. That is the reason I am sometimes forced to tell them myself"