Category Archives: Uncategorized

Creature from Outer Space Lands Next Door

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Those who know me know I’m not an art critic like my friend Oma.

I can’t draw a straight line even with a ruler. (Why do rulers have those little bumps and notches, anyway?)

My sister, who always seemed to have a crayon or colored pencil in hand, was the artist in our family. On summer days, she’d insist we draw pictures, then critique each other.

I always won the coveted “Loser” title.

But even someone who can’t draw a straight line knows what she likes, or doesn’t like.

Take this outlandish “artwork” that recently appeared on my neighbor’s backyard deck:

What is this thing?

What is this thing?

At first, I thought I wasn’t close enough to capture it in all its glory without being seen myself. But once inside, I cropped the picture to eliminate the background and there it was.

Something.

I found myself at a loss to call it by name.

Now maybe I’m not cultured enough. Or I’m not seeing its rustic charm. Or utility.

Maybe it’s not supposed to be pretty.

But shouldn’t we know what it is?

I mean, somebody went to some trouble assembling it (unless it arrived like that from Mars). And somebody paid good money for it.

What is it?

I’ve compiled a list of possibilities. See if you agree:

  1. It’s a dog. See the metal link “collar” around its neck? And the springy tail? Probably canine. At least it doesn’t require feeding, brushing, or picking up its waste.
  2. It’s a horse. Look at those clunky hooves and the way they’re solidly on terra firma. Why, it even sports horseshoes!
  3. It’s a slinky toy. That disjointed body can only be compared to Slinky Dog from Toy Story.
  4. It’s an abstract railroad. Witness the “wheeled” head. The way it stares off into the distance, raring to travel to far-off lands.
  5. It’s an alien. No one I know has ever seen an alien, so this creature could very well be from a foreign planet. The blessing, I guess, is that there’s only one, so we probably don’t have to fear a takeover.
  6. It’s an old computer. My neighbor is a tinkerer. Perhaps this is what he does on weekends — takes apart old computers (or washing machines) and uses the scraps to create “art” as a side venture. Some people will buy anything if you give it the right moniker.
  7. It’s a flowerpot. That empty “bowl” might be designed to hold pansies or herbs. Something to brighten the deck.

As I said, I don’t really know art, but this doesn’t look very “art-y” to me. I’d go so far as to call it ugly.

But I could be wrong. What say you?

P.S. My money’s on No. 5, the alien. After all, check out that horn-like thing extending from the top of its head!

Trivial Facts About This and That

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Did you know:

  • Americans carry nearly $800 billion in credit card debt. To put it another way, if you were alive during Jesus’s time and spent $1 million every day since, you wouldn’t have reached $798 billion!
  • Less than 4 percent of the world’s population sports naturally red hair (2 percent in the U.S.). And redheads don’t turn grey; rather, they become sandy, then white.
  • When My Favorite Domer was born in 1991, the average U.S. price of a gallon of gas was $1.21.
  • There are between 300 and 500 dimples on a typical golf ball (336 is a common number, though).
  • The most expensive perfume in the world is Clive Christian No. 1 Imperial Majesty Perfume — $12,721.89 per ounce! They only made 10 bottles (which were of Baccarat crystal, featuring a 5-carat white diamond and an 18-carat gold collar).
  • A 115-lb. person burns 42 calories per hour while peacefully sleeping.
  • Life expectancy in the U.S. is now 78.49 years, compared to Monaco’s 89.68 years and Chad’s 48.69 years.
  • Cardinals typically select one of their own to become Pope, but actually, any baptized Catholic male could be named.
  • March is National Umbrella Month. Churches designated as basilicas contain an honorary papal umbrella striped in red and gold, which is opened during a visit by the Pope.
  • More than 30 years later, the case surrounding the deaths of seven people in the Chicago area from cyanide-laced Tylenol tablets has never been solved.

Now, don’t you feel smarter?!

The Gift of Forgiveness

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I hate admitting it, but there are several stories in the Bible that I find hard to like.

This weekend’s Gospel reading about the Prodigal Son is one.

Turns out, the reason I’m having trouble with it is that I’m hearing it too literally.

I’m the first child in my family. The one who’s tried to “be good,” “be responsible,” “be conscientious.”

The one who’s generally done as she’s been told.

So when I hear of this Prodigal Son squandering his inheritance, then begging to come back into the family, I nod my head.

Figures, I think disdainfully.

And when the father throws a party for that wayward son, what’s that about??

Forgiveness.

It’s a lesson we need to understand symbolically.

Jesus wasn’t talking about birth order; He was pointing out that we all need to be forgiven, and the Father in Heaven is willing to forgive.

Aren’t we all a little like that Prodigal Son?

God has given us countless gifts, yet we squander them shamelessly. Or we decide we’d rather have a gift that somebody else has instead of those we’ve got.

We try Him and test Him, seeing how far we can push.

We’re all like the older son, too.

Feeling like we’ve somehow “earned” God’s forgiveness. Living with anger and resentment when things don’t go our way, when we see others getting “more” or “better” than we have.

As if God giving someone else a gift takes something away from us!

Our priest said somebody did a survey of the medical profession and learned that only 10 percent of people’s illnesses are actually caused by disease. The rest, doctors say, stem from anger, fear, and resentment — emotions that medicine can’t cure.

Do you remember the movie The Karate Kid?

When Mr. Miyagi asks the bullied young Daniel why he wants to learn karate, Daniel replies, “Is revenge a good enough reason?”

Wise old Mr. Miyagi points out, “Then you’d better dig two graves, one for yourself, one for the other guy.”

Mr. Miyagi, you see, knew what Jesus was trying to tell us — that anger hurts us more than it hurts others.

That forgiveness is necessary for peace and health.

So instead of seeing myself as the “wronged” first son, I need to realize I’ve been “prodigal,” too.

And humbly accept God’s forgiveness.

Truth in Blogging

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A couple of nights ago, I was trolling Blogland, trying to see if I’d missed someone interesting to follow, when I chanced upon the photo of a friendly-faced woman who unabashedly admitted her gravatar picture was 10 years old.

Well, actually more than 10 years, or so she said.

My first thought was if she’d fudged on her age, she might have fudged on everything else!

And while something like that carries little importance in the overall scheme of things, all of us have come to rely on the veracity of the bloggers we regularly read. We see their picture and instantly know what to expect — whether it be a snarky retort, a thoughtful comment, an encouraging word.

And we expect them to look like their pictures. Not to have grabbed the photo of an unnamed stranger from a photo frame at Wal-Mart and pretended to be that person.

Still, if I were going to fudge on my photo, which year would I choose?

Easy — the year I turned twenty-two.

I can still see 22-year-old me after my parents settled me in my first apartment. I’m seated at the kitchen table, fresh-faced, expectant, hopeful.

Young.

Twenty-two-year-old me was a clean slate, right out of the sheltering womb of college, ready to take on the world.

To right wrongs, expose corruption. The stuff good journalists were trained to do.

Twenty-two-year-old me didn’t have to agonize over programming languages because she wasn’t running a Web design business.

Nor did 22-year-old me need to finish her novel. Oh, she’d started many a one, and she and her colleagues often joked about wanting to write The Great American Novel one day. But she didn’t really think she could. Hadn’t countless English teachers throughout school told her as much?

Besides, wanting to and doing are two different things.

And it would be years before she summoned enough courage to create, to say something meaningful, in a novel.

But 22-year-old me didn’t have Domer. Or Darling Doggie Dallas. And without those two special boys, my life would be infinitely dreary.

So while I might prefer showing 22-year-old me to the world, I’m not doing it.

The gravatar I use is me — me and Dallas — and it hasn’t been Photoshopped. I’ve always been a “what you see is what you get” kind of person. No sense changing now.

Out of curiosity, though, how recent is your blogging photo??

You Gotta Have Friends….

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Sometimes we have to accept the fact that we can’t do everything by ourselves.

As a Virgo, that’s not something I embrace. I tend to believe the more people involved in a project, the greater the likelihood of errors.

BIG errors. Messy, even.

But as 2012 wound down, I found myself at wit’s end with a project designing a new Website for a client. They wanted me to create a form, something to let their customers choose different-priced options and see — via a running total — how much they could anticipate paying for a certain service. This form also needed to capture the customer’s contact information so they could follow up and clinch the sale.

Not an easy task.

Hiding my head in the sand comes natural for me, so I designed the entire site (including the form) and got everything looking and working to their satisfaction.

Then they asked if the form worked.

Not yet, I stammered. But it will.

Eventually.

Did I admit I had no clue how to make it work?

Of course not. I’m a Virgo, remember??

What I did know was it involved programming. Yuck.

Back when I was taking Web design classes, programming really wasn’t part of the equation. So I went to the drawing board.

Or rather, the learning board.

I tried online how-tos, bought computer books, searched for code I could copy-and paste, and consulted my go-to gurus.

To no avail.

Now I felt pretty sure I could eventually figure out how to code the form, but there loomed a fast-approaching deadline.

And I believe in bringing projects to completion on time.

So I went begging for help.

I found a company on the West Coast that does expert programming on a contract basis.

Just what I needed!

We corresponded via e-mail and phone, and they assured me this piece of the puzzle was right up their alley.

And they even made me feel better about it.

Designing is a right-brain activity, they told me. Programming calls upon the left side of the brain.

Well, no wonder!

My project is now finished, and I feel relieved. Still, I shudder at how many places it could have blown up in my face.

Am I the only person in the world who finds collaborating on projects tricky?

Getting My Irish Up

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This is a copy of the e-mail I sent this afternoon to one of the myriad organizations whose list I’m on to solicit for funds.

As you can see, it really “got my Irish up” when it arrived. Good thing today is “Grouch Day,” ha!

*****

Dear Sirs:

Once again, I have received in the mail a package from you requesting a donation. This time, it was marked “Second Notice.” What’s that all about, I ask???

“Second Notice” sounds to me as if you’re a bill collector, and I’m a deadbeat. I am not.

“Second Notice” implies that you’ve tried before and failed. That tells me you’re doing the same thing — sending out multiple notices in hopes of guilting people to give — and that’s a waste of everybody’s time and somebody’s resources.

“Second Notice” has a coercion feeling to it, as if I’m expected to donate. I am not.

I’m self-employed. Thus, I don’t have a wealth of surplus money lying around for me to dole out willy-nilly. I work hard for my money and am frankly tired of all you organizations trying desperately to cut me out of the picture and grab some for yourselves.

Yes, I donate to charity, plenty of charities. But I’ll do that on my schedule, not yours, thank you very much.

I’ve had it up to here with your organization and regardless of how much I donate, yours won’t be on my list. You might as well STOP sending me stuff and save your efforts for somebody else.

Sincerely,

(my name)

********

Will it help? Will it stop the onslaught of “dunning” notices I receive?

I doubt it. But if I can make a dent in the stack, or remove a few from the list, I’ll be happy.

Most of us receive far too much junk mail, whether it’s in our home postal box or via e-mail. We complain about it, throw it into the trash, and move on to something else.

Today I decided I’d had enough. I don’t begrudge an organization for trying to solicit funds. Many times, that’s how they keep afloat. But forcing people to give isn’t charity.

It’s coercion. And that’s against the law.

What do you think?

Waiting…Waiting…

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The house across the street from me is vacant.

A “For Sale” sign advertises what we neighbors have long suspected — the owner is staying in a nursing home. Her kids already have homes and don’t need another one.

It’s a big house, too. Three bedrooms, three full baths, fireplace, patio.

The lawn is manicured, reminding me of a person all dressed up with nowhere to go.

The drapes are open to let sunshine into the windows, which look like eyes staring off into the distance, seeing nothing.

I’m told there’s a fresh coat of paint and a new roof. That’s Realtor-speak for “whitewashed tombs” — pretty on the exterior but hiding a wealth of problems within (Matt. 23:27).

Not that there are major problems. No, it’s just that this home is no longer new.

There’s no new house smell. No immense bathrooms with spa tubs. No squeaky-clean, unused appliances.

How can one erase 50 years of Life from a home? Families ate meals in its dining room. Children studied their schoolwork or practiced musical lessons.

People argued. And made up.

They laughed and cried.

I remember that house from when I was little. We neighbor kids used to love playing Hide-and-Seek, and one of our favorite places to hide was right on its front porch.

(I know, we’d never get away with that these days — who wants giggling kids hunkering down outside their front door?)

This porch was ideal, though. It has a brick wall with several decorative open squares partially concealing the front door from the street. Squares that are perfect for little child-eyes to peep out without being seen. To wait for “It” to run away from the “safe-spot,” clearing the way for “the hiders” to get there.

Fast-forward a few years, and I remember that house being a place My Favorite Domer avoided when he was learning to ride a bicycle.

Its sidewalk had crumbled, leaving a treacherous spot for new (and experienced) bicyclists.

Even now, Darling Doggie switches to the grass when we walk there. Because of the sidewalk.

So the house sits vacant. Alone. Lonely.

Waiting for a new family to move in. To bring Life once more to its walls. Perhaps to fix it up, hanging pictures, putting in new carpet and flooring.

And fencing in the backyard for a dog or a child’s birthday party.

We neighbors wait right along with the house.

Healing Beads for a Friend

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When the husband of a friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer several months ago, I started pondering ways I could help.

Other than prayer, which I immediately did. And still do.

Luckily, Suzicate posted a blog about creativity, making a strand of prayer/meditation beads, and it hit me — I can do that!

As a Catholic and “beader”, I regularly make Rosaries. But my friend’s husband isn’t Catholic. And I never try to push my religion onto others.

Nor was I comfortable promoting the Buddhist philosophy.

Still, I firmly believe God put everything here on Earth that we need. Even rocks.

The Bible tells us God instructed His people to use certain stones — including jasper, agate, sapphire, and carnelian — when making the temple high priest’s clothing. And the Book of Revelation indicates the new temple will be constructed in Jerusalem using many of these same stones.

Do I believe gemstones, in and of themselves, heal? No, of course not.

Do I believe God can use gemstones to bring about healing? Definitely. He’s God; He can use whatever instrument He chooses.

So I designed and crafted a strand of healing beads. Not a bracelet, but a string of about eight inches long, consisting of semiprecious beads that supposedly have healing properties.

Stones like Flourite (to fortify bones), Howlite (to balance calcium levels), and Jasper (to ease emotional stresses).

On either end of my strand, I attached a simple Chinese coin, which traditionally is a feng shui money cure. Not that this man is suffering from lack of funds, but cancer treatments are expensive, and every little bit of “luck” helps!

Before I took the beads to him, I thought hard about what message I was sending. I didn’t want to mislead him by offering false hope, nor did I want to confuse him about Who is really in charge here.

So I told him some people call them worry beads. Others refer to them as prayer beads. Whatever we choose to call them, and whether they actually work, probably depends on our frame of mind. And the will of our Creator.

He was thrilled with my gift! He sat for a long while, fingering the beads and trying to memorize from my cheat-sheet which was which stone and their metaphysical properties.

Of course he’s undergoing traditional treatment. But if something as simple as gemstones can ease his mind during this difficult time, that’s a good thing, don’t you agree?

Outdoor “Advertising”

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On the way back to South Bend yesterday (returning My Favorite Domer to campus for spring semester) my attention was again drawn to a sign.

One of those billboard-sized outdoor signs, the kind you can’t miss.

The kind that normally advertises legal services or hotels or car dealerships.

Or “adult entertainment.”

The sign is nestled in a clearing on the east side of I-65, somewhere between Lowell and Merrillville, Indiana. It features a stark black background and immense white letters which read: “Jesus is Real” as you’re headed north.

The back side of the sign, as you’re traveling south, reads: “Hell is Real.”

I’d have taken a picture of it, but traveling along at 70 mph leaves little room for photographing stuff.

Even interesting stuff.

Besides, I’ve given you the description, and it’s not like it was photogenic.

This sign has been up for at least four years, and the former journalist and present-day writer in me finds it quite mysterious.

Who put it there? Why do they keep it in such good shape?

Was it erected by a born-again convict who’s seen the error of his ways? Is it being maintained by a church group hoping to nudge passersby into regular religious attendance? Or did a son or daughter use their inheritance to proclaim something dear ole Dad always used to tell them?

Once I called the Indiana Department of Transportation to find out some background on the sign.

But, sadly, they had no information for me. They said they really didn’t know who’d put up the sign, or how long it’s been there, or if there’s a juicy story behind it.

So, I guess I’ll have to do as I’ve done for the past four years. When I come to the vicinity of the sign, I’ll read the front side, then whirl around to read the back.

The one side is comforting; the other, sobering.

Anybody out there know the origins of this billboard or its proclamation?

Thank You, My Friends!

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Well, I’m officially back, rested and raring to tackle the new year.

But don’t think I’ve been too far away. No, I’ve been lurking, reading all my usual blogs and even putting in my two cents’ worth on occasion! I’ve missed you all fiercely — what is it about blogging that bonds us into a community, where we find acceptance and appreciation and support?

While I was AWOL, the friendly folks at WordPress were kind enough to provide me with a summary of my blogging achievements over 2012. I found them pretty fascinating, and it seems like a good way to ease myself back into things.

Now, I don’t want to hear anybody saying they don’t give two hoots about statistics. Of course you do. We all do! It’s the connections we make that are most important to us, but we can’t help looking at (obsessing over??) our stats. We feel a need to find out where our readers are coming from — in my case, most of you are from the U.S., but the Netherlands and Canada aren’t far behind. In fact. visitors arrived to my blog from 114 countries worldwide this year, something I have a hard time grasping! Thank you.

My blog had more than twice the number of views in 2012 that it had in 2011. My busiest day of the year came on Aug. 24 after I posted about the “fun” of another move-in day at the University of Notre Dame. And I was right — I hardly remember the trials of that hot August day, preferring I suppose to concentrate on the joys of having my son a student on that beautiful campus!

I averaged 1.5 posts per week — not great, compared to the prolific writers around me — but consistent. See, I’ve just found something to remedy in the new year!

My top referring sites were via Katybeth, Dawn, and Barb (along with Facebook and Google Reader). Thank you, my friends, for doing what you do to help publicize my presence here — I’ll be glad to return the favor in 2013, if you’ll let me know how!

Changing the subject, do you make new year’s resolutions? Typically, I find myself reiterating the same chant — lose a few pounds, exercise more, etc. — without regard for how I’m going to measure success. Or failure.

This year, however, begs for something more concrete, and so, herewith I set down the following goals (y’all hold me to them, ‘k??):

1) Blog twice a week. Hey, if I find I can do that easily, I might up the number, but I’ve got to start somewhere!

2) Finish my novel. I’m trudging around in the murky middle ground at present and, while I have a pretty good idea how it’s going to end, getting there is no easy feat.

3) Learn a programming language. Perhaps I’ll have to audit a class; perhaps I can teach myself. But it’s got to get done!

4) Lose five pounds — and keep them off. I’m not a candidate for bariatric surgery; I just want to feel better and look better.

5) Set up an author Website. No, I don’t have any books to publicize yet, but I want to be ready when the time comes!

Anybody want to take bets on whether I can attain these goals??