A song for President Skippy and his recent address

Someone's gonna love ya!

A number of years ago, Soda Chicky was a part of the chorus in her elementary school production of "Honk". It's one of those plays that tends to be seen more in children's theater and grade schools than in the "legitimate theater" but it was on Broadway at one time.

There have been a number of people on my mind over the past few days who are needing some grace lavished on them. For them and anyone else who might need it (me included, I suppose) here's one of the joyful numbers from "Honk" the story of the ugly duckling.

Pseudo Grandbaby's Tough Day

Today Pseudo Grandbaby had shots. Four of them, two in each leg. Initially he was his usual happy self. But then post afternoon nap, he realized how crummy he really felt.

I had forgotten how bad "Shot Day" can be for the little ones. They can't really tell you if they feel bad because their legs hurt or if it's because they just feel achey or feverish or what. So they cry. And then after that they weep. This is all followed by more sadness as they struggle to take that much needed second nap.

Pseudo is a very happy baby. Growing strong. Long and lean and very active. When he feels bad I remember how hard it was to deal with Soda Chicky's baby tears. Sometimes I just wanted to join the crying. Sometimes I did joing the crying.

Pseudo's mom and dad are doing a great job of finding ways to comfort their little one. And now I ache as much for them as for the baby. It's bound to be a long night.

Meming for fun

Soda Chicky was reading the Luther Punk's blog of this meme and said, "Mom, you HAVE to do that!" So here you go, Chicky! Now go do your homework!

4 crushes:

1. Chris - during much of the latter part of grade school. He was smart and had a cute smile. By the time he might have noticed me, he moved to a different school.


2. Bruce - during the first half of college. He would call me up to tell me about all the sadness he was having with his long distance girlfriend. I can remember being called after 11:00 midweek, pulling the curlers out of my hair, slapping on makeup, putting on clothes and being ready in under ten minutes so that I could have coffee at Denny's with this guy.


3. Some tall guy at sem - can't remember his name. Hmmm.... After a disappointing response to a theological question I tossed his way, he became much less attractive.


4. The husband - after his mother kept throwing us together, he finally caught on.
   

4 Pieces of Clothing I wish I still owned (and/or that still fit):

1. Dreamy midnight blue strapless that my sister lent me for the "Senior Prom" at seminary. Also known as "the princess dress". I wish this one still fit. I'm thinking my sister wishes the same thing.


2. Norwegian cardigan that got lost in transit after internship. Too many boxes. Bad UPS Man. Very bad UPS Man.


3. Khaki colored two piece dress that was ruined by a dry cleaner in Tiny Town, Missouri. When I pointed out that they had removed all the color from the dress along with the dirt, they asked me if I still wanted the dress. Very strange!


4. My size 7 1/2 shoes. Mommyhood makes your feet a half size bigger, but I still have some of the shoes. Maybe Soda Chicky can wear them?
   

4 names I’ve been called at one time or another:

1. Hildegarde - by my father


2. HRod - by friends in my high school art department


3. George - by my mother


4. Moo-ma - by the Chick
   

4 Professions I secretly Want to Try:

1. Florist


2. World famous novelist


3. Professor


4. Sous chef

4 Musicians I’d most want to go on a date with:

1. Billy Joel - back when we were both younger and cuter. Say 1978.


2. James Taylor - most any day of the week.


3. Mozart - when we were both single and alive and I'd need a Babel Fish in my ear because I don't speak German.


4. Paul Stookey - not for romance but conversation.
   

4 Foods I’d rather Throw than Eat

1. Brussel sprouts - they are really nasty. I don't care what my mother-in-law says, they are vile.


2. Liver


3. Deviled eggs. Cannot stand the smell!


4. Mashed yucca. Had it at a restaurant. Very strange stuff.


5. A runner up: gluten free communion wafers. They are not tasty.

4 Things I Like to Sniff

1. Snow


2. The top of Pseudo Grandbaby's head. (With thanks to Luther Punk.) Baby heads are the sweetest things.


3. Fresh baked bread


4. Brut after shave. It's a Daddy smell from my childhood.
   

Where did you get that outfit!

Luther Punk posted some really interesting pictures of famous folks in their liturgical garb and wondered if maybe wardrobe should be a future topic of ecclesiastical dialog. His entries for craziest outfit of the day were:

But I would like to counter with these two.

What ever happened to basic black? Or white? Or off white? But pink?!? Not this preacher! Mmm-hmm-mmm.

If we do these things in the green wood...

There's a Unitarian Church on my pathway home from work. Almost every Wednesday there are members on either side of the street protesting the war in Iraq. There signs say things like "Honk if you want to stop the war!" I always honk.

I wonder how long they will have to stand on the curbside before all of the troops come home. Not just the "surge" troops, but everyone.

General Petraeus seems to think that 30,000 will come home in the next year. That's good. But that still leaves 130,000 men and women fighting this war.

I thought of an old Peter, Paul and Mary song while I was driving today. If I could find the audio file, I'd post it. But even without the haunting tune, the words are very powerful.


I've seen a thousand people kneel in silence
And I've seen them face the rifles with their songs
I always thought that we could end the killing
But now I live in fear that I was wrong

The killer and the cynic waltz together
Their eyes are turned into their skulls
They do not feel the bullets in the bodies
They do not hear the dolphins or the gulls

If we do these things in the greenwood,
what will happen in the dry?

If we don't stop there'll come a time when women
With barren wombs will bitterly rejoice
With breasts that dry and never fill with promise
Gladly they'll not suckle one more life

Is this then the whimper and the ending?
The impotence of people raised on fear,
A fear that blinds the sense of common oneness
Common love and life or death are here

If we do these things in the greenwood,
what will happen in the dry?

Will no one light the candle in the darkness
Will no one be my guide, not let me fall
I've lost the sense that tells me where the path is
I feel the chill of winter in my soul

There's no way I can say the words more plainly
There's no one left to point at anymore
It's you and me and we must make the choice now
And not destroy the life we're living for

If we do these things in the greenwood,
what will happen in the dry?

If we do these things in the greenwood,
what will happen in the dry?