Rebels: Morning people?

This morning, I sprung out of bed at 6:30 and decided to go for a run. It was one of those lovely sort of mornings that you see on commercials for General Foods International Coffee, feminine hygiene products, and sleep medications - sunny, but filmed as if through slightly tinted sunglasses so it wasn't TOO bright; just enough of a breeze to ruffle the scents of flowers and wet earth; and cool, but the sort of cool where you still break a sweat when you're workin. It was the precise morning that you'd expect to see a couple of old folks sitting out on their porch, enjoying their morning coffee - which I did. They waved and said good morning, too. Nice.

It was NOT the sort of morning you'd expect to see ... a dude out in his front yard, essentially 'dancing' with a frisbee. No, don't read it again, you've got it right. That's the only way I can describe what this guy was up to. He was out in his front yard, with just a normal old fluorescent yellow frisbee, spinning it on his finger, throwing it up in the air and catching it on his other hand, spinning it in the air and catching it under his leg, rolling it on edge from one outstretched hand and down his arm to his other arm and catching it in his other hand, flipping and twirling - it was fantastic!!! I mean running in the morning is one thing, but that level of coordination and grace and skill at 7 AM? Incredible. I was so entertained and enthralled, I think I forgot I was running for a while. What a unique sort of sport! It was cooler to watch (and his stunts were much more athletic) than ribbon twirlers doing a floor exercise! Who is this guy? Does he have a dog for his act too? Why was he out so early? Ah, the swirling questions surrounding the crazy Frisbee Ballet guy.

It's funny that most of the world thinks the cool people, the freaks, and the rebels only come out at night. Maybe that's because most of the world doesn't get up early enough to see them out in the morning!? :)

Like Grandma used to say

I love old people. I love hanging out with old people and listening to their amazing stories of how they grew up, and where they went to school, and what they did for fun, and what they did to get in trouble - those bits of history are so precious. And in those conversations, one thing you can ALWAYS count on, is hearing at least one (sometimes more like three or four) sentence that starts with: 'Well, my Grandpa/Grandma/etc. used to say ...'

And almost every single one of those 'usedtosays' belongs in a Bartlett's Famous Quotes book. They're quippy, and shrewd, and poignant, and generally make you nod your head and smile. (On the occasion, though, there are those that just don't make any sense to me at all ... there's a good chance Grandma said those things after her marbles had escaped.)

**Even an old barn looks good with a coat of red paint. (regarding bright red lipstick on a vintage visage)
**It ain't a sin to be poor.
**First of July, wet or dry; First of October, drunk or sober. (regarding turnip planting and harvesting)
**Arbeiten, arbeiten, immer arbeiten.
**You just gotta keep on keepin' on.
**When you hear an owl in the middle of the day, someone you know has passed away. (this one is sadly, eerily true)
**Let's see if this dog'll hunt.
**A little dirt never hurt nobody.
**Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have, sleep all you want, or tell everything you know.
**The worm has turned.
**Pretty is as pretty does.
**If you can't stand the heat, get out of the oven.
**It's better to be poor than stupid.

And I know there are tons more ... any additions are VERY welcome.

A(n?) Eulogy

Sometimes I think I've been doing this farming thing for a long time. And then I think about you. You were there, in all your green glory, before I was even born. Your heavy, thick metal and sturdy wooden floors are not the stuff of today's vainglorious, shiny, aluminum luxury liners. You were built to LAST. And last you did. For many, many moons.

You've seen more family feuds than a divorce court. You've waded through more bull ... oney ... than a Sprint cell phone customer. You've put up with more pressure than an egg in a microwave.

You've been mended, fixed, greased, lubed, wired, re-wired, re-wired, re-wired, welded, re-floored, bent, bent-back, jack-knifed, stuck, rusted, patched. No one can say you didn't do your best. You served us well, for a long, long time. But now, old friend ...



It's time for shiny newness! Ain't this a Cattle-ac? (say it out loud, it makes more sense.) WHEEEE-HOOO!!! Hey maw, let's take 'er for a SPIN!!!!

Jack's Mother

So I heard about this community musical being put on in, well, my community, this summer. And I had no good reason to NOT go to the auditions. Plus, if I didn't go to the auditions, but I went to the production and sat there all disappointed-like and huffy that I could've done that, I'd probably kick myself. So.

What the hay. The only thing they can do is tell me to leave immediately, never again subject the world to such noise pollution, make me want to drive off a bridge, no big whoop, right?

So I go. And it's kinda like my first Trap Shooting experience: the uber-obvious Amateur surrounded by Professionals. And not just the regular sort of professionals, I mean the ones that enunciate, pronunciate, and accentuate ev-er-y con-so-nant, ev-er-y syll-a-ble, and blink point-ed-ly when they say things, kind of pro-fes-sion-als.

My internal conversation at this point:
- I should just leave.
- Nah. Why? Even if you do make yourself look stupid, it'll be good for the blog.
- Good point. What am I singing again?
- Who knows. Make something up.
- Sweet John Denver, why am I here?

I should've hit 'em with a rousing rendition of Old McDonald. But I didn't think of that at the time, I was too terrified. I sang an old timey Southerny gospel song. Sang some 'never-before-released' lyrics too, 'cause I forgot the official ones. But, it must've gone well, because I got a part! (oooh, now that I think about it, either it DID go pretty well, or they didn't have enough people audition ... not gonna think about it.)

Whee!! A part in a musical!! An actual singing part!! I have something like 20 seconds' worth of a solo, plus some speaking parts, some funny lines, AND: an overly dramatic death scene. What more could a first-timer possibly wish for??!! I can't wait. Off I go, Into the Woods, to be Jack's Mother!!! Wish me luck!!