POC

Quote of the Day:  Music's the medicine of the mind. - John A. Logan

Also, Laughter is the best medicine. I don't know if anyone gets credit for that one. It's one of the consistent humor columns in Reader's Digest.  Here's my own bit of humor for the day.  It's all good medicine.

I am a member of LAMAA (see sidebar for our blog). It stands for Lakes Area Memory Awareness Advocates.  I am strictly a volunteer member. I joined because I want to learn more about Alzheimer's disease and Dementia awareness, and well, get involved.  I noticed that on our agenda for today's meeting that I am the POC of the website/blog.  Here was my response to that:

Good Morning, Corrie,

So, I see that I am a POC regarding the website/blog. Not being active in the business world, I started to think what POC might stand for:

POC - Person of Concern (like in a crime investigation)

POC - Parent on Call (Me 24/7)

POC - Patient of Corrie, Licensed Therapist (currently, not me, there's always tomorrow)

POC - Princess of Camelot (again, not me, but now I have some ideas for Halloween)

POC - Princess of Chocolate (Strong contender)

POC - Person on Chocolate (me, totally)

POC - Pickle or Cucumber (matter of taste)

POC - Pill or Capsule (pharmacist's question)

POC - Play or Coach (depends on skill and age)

POC - Pissed off Customer (while calling your phone service and kept waiting and waiting, pushing buttons, and waiting and waiting)

POC - Picture of Christ (seen on burnt doorframes and frosted windows)

POC - Piece of Cake (yes, please)

POC - Passed Out Cold (hmmm)

POC - Police on Campus (often, for reason listed above)

POC - Petty old Coot (hopefully, not your next door neighbor)

POC - Plethora of Color (Fall, can you feel it coming?)

This is how my mind works. Enjoy your day. See you tomorrow!

Mary

Go. Create. Inspire! And, have a little fun!

Journaling Prompt:  Have you ever been a POC?  What might it stand for? Do you ever get confused by cryptic text messages?

Rooftop Pot Garden

Quote of the Day:  The most essential gift for a good writer is a built-in, shock-proof, shit detector. --Ernest Hemingway (from bro-in-law KC)

I am not much of a gardener.  My mom has a garden the size of a small field.  I must have had my fill of gardening, weeding, and canning, growing up on the farm, so I use pots to grow my tomatoes, peppers, and flowers.

My bro-in-law KC has a rooftop pot garden.  I've invited him to write a guest post.

My sister-in-law, Mary, has asked me to write a little this week about my pot garden, where I don't grow pot mostly because it is illegal, but also because I entered college later in life.



The problem with writing about my non-pot pot garden where I don't grow pot for my sister-in-law, Mary, is I don't consider it a pot garden at all, but a bucket garden.


Pot, to me, sounds far too dainty and ephemeral in either usage: the curved lines of a decorative container or the curled wisps of smoke and patchouli rising from someone's confusion. A bucket is more substantial, the workhorse of the container world. It's more straight-forward. A bucket is something you can sing to Liza about, even if she's just going to tell you to fix it.


So anyway, I think you could probably grow weed in a bucket just as well as a pot, provided you knock some holes in it for drainage, but I only think that because weeds seem to grow anywhere and everywhere you let them, at least in my experience.


I, however, don't recommend letting a weed grow. Instead, make a bucket list. Mine includes radishes, carrots, white and yellow onions, beets, lettuce, tomatoes, bell peppers, and various spices, not including pot.

Three varieties of tomatoes:

Hear no evil, See no evil, Speak no evil.

Inventive use for wheelbarrows, minus the wheels.

The Radish

And, a little weed.

Journaling Prompt:  How does your garden grow?



Seeking Light

Quote of the Day:  Mingle a little folly with your wisdom; a little nonsense now and then is pleasant. - Horace, Roman poet and satirist

So, I started to look for the Light - you know, places where I see generosity, good people, moments of levity, a good old-fashioned belly laugh.  The Mothers of Multiples (MOMS) group went to Prairie Bay for our holiday dinner.  I handed my camera to the hostess.  She had some fun snapping candid shots.  We lined up in front of the fire place, then politely asked this man if he wanted to join the MOMs' club and be in the shot?  He said something funny that I missed, which caused this fun shot of laughter!

Here's our photographer - lookin' good in front of and behind the camera lens!

I passed around a card I bought for our sister in mothering multiples who was just diagnosed with inflammatory breast cancer.  The front says: There is a circle of caring all around...  And, inside ...and you're right in the middle.  We also passed the Christmas plate for donations to some families in our midst who could use a little Christmas cheer.

And, I've spent time at noon during Advent with my pastor/friend and other women who need time to connect during this season.  Great discussions, meaningful moments.  So glad I have you, Erika!

Bill, facebook friend, is sharing corny jokes during this season.  Here's a sample:  Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other: 'You stay here; I'll go on a head.'

One more:  A sign on the lawn at a drug rehab center said: 'Keep off the Grass.'
 

I'm drawn to the Light during this Advent season.  How are you doing?






 
 
Journaling Prompt: Share a fun holiday memory or story from your near or distant past.  Or, post a joke! 

Blogaversary

Quote of Day: A blog is a writer's playland. I'll tribute that quote to my best writer-mama-pal, Roxane.  She's the first one to say it to me and the one who got me connected with all you readers and bloggers out there. Thank you!  This is my Blogaversary.  One year ago this Thanksgiving weekend, I launched by blog.

Writer-mama-pals Mary & Roxane at Highlights workshop in PA

You can read my first post here.  Once I released my blog to the universe, I was amazed at how quickly I made connections and felt part of something bigger than my own little world, here in central Minnesota, USA.  I'll list the best of Play off the Page, year one.

My favorite using photos and writing about the Creative Spirit.
The title that attracted the most male readers, I Left my Bra in Omaha, and on the healing power of friendship and self-care.
When I wrote about the book, The Curse of the Good Girl, and teaching girls to live authentic lives, I got a response from the author of that book.  She passed my blog post on to her readers.  It was a shining moment in my blog connection experience.
Likewise, when I wrote about the Hot Shops in Omaha, the artist whose glass piano I featured found me through a series of connections.  Click here for the follow-up post.

As you can see, I really get around.  I added the flag counter this summer and get excited whenever a new flag appears.  Thanks for visiting from your dot on the globe!  Thanks for connecting with me.  And, to continue the connections, I'll list below two humorous blog posts I've read in the past week.

Tara at The Feel of Something New for her tribute to her twins' birthday and a funny video on crazy conversations about multiples.
The Kill Zone for a post on "Tipos."

Another photo from PA.  It made me chuckle.

The journey continues.  The path beckons.  Stories are everywhere.

Go. Create. Inspire!

Journaling Prompt:  Where is the path taking you this year? 

Angst

Quote of the Day:  I have cultivated my hysteria with joy and terror. - Charles Baudelaire

How fitting this quote is as I continue my search for a captivating story and an elusive mouse.  I found it in a book called Writers on Writing, or W.O.W. in the section titled "Angst." 

I am now driving around in a van that smells like a peppermint patty on wheels.  My pant legs are tucked securely into my socks as protection from a mouse suddenly appearing at the pedals of my car and crawling up my leg.

My eyes may or may not be burning from the strong dosage of peppermint extract splashed in the van.  My boys may or may not have covered their faces and asked, "What is that smell?"  They did their best to convince me that if they couldn't stand to be in the van more than five minutes, neither could a mouse.  And, a guest passenger might have been screwing up his face in wonder and finally asking, "Why does it smell so much like peppermint in here?"

I got to thinking, what if that little devil is hiding somewhere in the van.  So, I asked my friend JeMA's husband, Jon, if he'd look under my hood.  (It's okay, JeMA approved.) He checked everywhere!  It wasn't in the battery or tucked up under the hood.  He shined his little light under each seat.  He held up something by the tail...no wait...that's not a tail, it's a tea bag.  (Remember, the mint tea bags I threw in there before I got the mint extract.)  He also noticed several dryer sheets stuffed in there...and a few mouse turds on top of a piece of chocolate under the seat that he's leaning on.

Thanks for checking things out, Jon!

 I was in desperate need of a new look and place to relax, so I got my hair done this morning.  JeMA's daughter saw me and exclaimed, "Ooo, I like the raspberry stripes in your hair!"  She's so sweet.  My boys, of course, barely noticed.

But, it put a smile on my face.  And, look! here I am outside in November in Minnesota with just a t-shirt.  It was a glorious day!

One of the characters in my play is based on my hair stylist, Aubrey.  Whenever I'm with her, I'm motivated to finish the play and get a read-through set up.

Thanks, Aubrey, for lifting my spirits, calming my nerves, and giving me inspiration for my play Coffee Shop Confessions.  I think we could collaborate on a sequel, Salon Chair Confessions.  I'm sure you've heard it all!

Journaling Prompt:  Where are you experiencing angst, and how is it coming out in your art?



Of Mice and Mint

Quote of the Day:  Tea for two, and two for tea, mint for me, Matilda for you. - song I'm singing as I plot against my easy rider mouse.

I'd like to thank Nezzy at Cowpatty Surprise for leaving a comment on my post about my misadventures with a mouse.  Her blog is rip-roarin' fun, filled with good Southern farm girl humor, and a catchy tune that becomes the theme of each post - a girl after my own rythmic heartstrings.  She told me that mice don't like mint, and that if I douse my van, etc. with the smell, they'll stay away.

So, I looked in my cupboards.  The only thing I had with mint was mint tea.  So, I brewed some.  Then, I threw the tea bag in the van.  And, just for good measure, threw in a few extra.  I had both spearmint and peppermint tea bags, and not knowing which one the mice hate more, I threw them both in.  Then, when I was done drinking, I noticed a little liquid at the bottom of my teapot, so I "spilled" it on the floormat under my feet.  When I went out for coffee the next morning, I ordered the mint mocha, of course.  You know how at the bottom it gets a little thick from the chocolate?  Well, I just left the lid off and set it right there in the cup holder of my van - the more mint smell the better, right? 

After all the poking around I did with the lightsaber, and forcing my children to clear out all the junk and check under every seat, I decided it was a good time to bring the van in for a good washing.  Plus, I'd rather have the guys at the car wash vacuum it out.  I don't want to put my face down there near where a mouse might be.  I asked for "The Works" which includes an air freshener spray.  I told them anything with a hint of mint.  They said "new car" was the closest they had, then suggested stuffing dryer sheets under the seats and around in the van. 

You guessed it, when I got home, I grabbed about seven dryer sheets, put one under each seat and around that carpet area under the dash and near the pedals because that seems like a very handy place for a mouse to enter.

I made more mint tea, invited Matilda and the mouse, and we'll see what happens.  But, just to be safe, I found a bottle of mint scented lotion which I have generously slathered on my arms and especially my legs.  I also have a giant fear of one of those little critters crawling up my pants leg.

Alright, I'll set the mouse wars aside for a minute and share with you a link about spicing up your life and feeling healthier too.  I discovered this article while scooting around the internet this morning.  Add spices to your health!

Okay, here's the shopping list:
Mint
Garlic
Mint
Cinnamon
Mint
Cardoman
Mint

Go. Create. Inspire! (and sprinkle a few mint leaves around every door and window crevice - either that or use the toothpaste as caulking!)

Journaling Prompt:  Do you have any "home" rememdies that work for you?

A Game of Cat and Mouse

Quote of the Day:  Hickory Dickory Dock - traditional Nursery Rhyme

Hickory, dickory dock,

The mouse ran up the clock.

The clock struck one,

The mouse ran down,

Hickory, dickory dock.

Those sneaky, little devils will go anywhere!  We've discovered mice and evidence of mice in interesting places.  If you live in and around woods, lakes, fields, the countryside, grass, and the corn is off the fields, and the temps. drop below freezing, you'll get univited guests.  I have boys and a cat named Matilda, but they're more prone to sitting around reading books, or hanging out on the piano bench than out hunting mice.

Get up!  Didn't you hear that scratching sound in the vents?

Oh, I know, Matilda, I'd rather be on the piano bench, too.

Matilda likes mice.  She plays with them by tossing them in the air and chasing them around, maybe giving them a few love taps until they're all played out and run under the couch for a rest.  The rest can turn into a nap they never wake up from.  Then the living room stinks, so I move the couch to vacuum, and WHOA! get a nasty surprise. 

Looks like Miss Matilda is reading the paper and waiting, waiting...

We've had surprises in the bathtub overflow drain (yes!) and most recently suspicious evidence in the van.

A few years back, when Zach was in the tub (around 8 years old), he called me in because he saw something sticking out of the overflow drain.  It was a tail!  Then, a small paw!  I ran out of the bathroom with a shreek!  In the morning, the dad was trying to get rid of the mouse and asked for a tool.  I grabbed the spatula.  The twins were about six-years-old then.  They saw me head upstairs with the spatula and asked if breakfast was ready.  "Not, yet," I said, spatula raised and ready.  "Dad has to kill a mouse first."  They responded, "We're having mice for breakfast?"

  So, when I saw evidence of tiny creatures in the van - ripped up kleenex box and suspicious droppings, I freaked out!  I thought, if a mouse runs out while I'm driving, I'm going to crash.  I looked at the tools I had for this battle - a lightsaber and a cat.  Matilda gave me a one-eyed stare and fell back asleep, so I grabbed the lightsaber, opened all the doors to the van, and poked around in there.  Jab, then - paschew! the lightsaber lit up and made a loud noise.  I jumped.  I jabbed again.  It exploded with a new color and more sound.  I scared myself.  The mouse was probably tucked up under the engine at this point, laughing at me.

It might be gone.  I'm ready to take drastic measures.  I am NOT a mouse taxi.  No way.  No free rides from this chicken, or should I say elephant.  My boys said, "Mom, you're like an elephant."  Hmm, not so sure I like that comparison.  "No, it's because you're afraid of a tiny, little mouse."

So be it.  Mice be gone.  Matilda, wake up!

Go. Create. Inspire!  (then, come over here and help me fight the mice...please.)

Journaling Prompt:  Tell me your mouse tales!

Boy Use for Ordinary Things

Quote of the Day:  Imagination is more important than knowledge. - Albert Einstein

Boys can invent a new use for nearly any household object.  The vacuum and its parts have been a sword, a knife, an instrument, and a communications hose...I think.

I wore my hair short for years.  It was wash-n-go easy when my babies were small.  I wanted a new look, grew it out, and got a few hair things...or...

A blindfold.

When I can't find my favorite hair clip, I ask the guys, "Where did you put the catapult?"

"Stop launching rocks and let me put my hair back."

I've also noticed that instead of taking the easy way, say, the stairs, the boy will hop the stone path, scale the fence, walk the railing, jump from the highest step, or crawl through the gap, just to get to the other side.  So, I asked a boy, "Why do you do that?"  He said, "Because it's more fun."

Okay, so the next time I need a pot lid, I'll look in the costume box with the swords and armor.  My vacuum parts should also be there, or under a tree.  I need to buy a few more catapults, I mean hair clips, so I don't have to dig through the Legos or look under the couch when I need to pull back my hair for some serious house cleaning.  (Despite their need to shoot things from water guns to marshmallow pellets, they have poor aim in the bathroom.)

Boys have a primal need for adventure.  I've seen whole crews of them disappear into the woods, "spears" raised to hunt wild animals.  Of course, the "spears" are anything from sticks to golf clubs.

That type of wild imagination is fascinating to watch.  It inspires me to write "off the page" and challenges me to give boys the kind of adventures they crave.

For more fun stories on raising boys, and their creative use for common objects, see Peace Garden Mama today.  My writer-mama-pal, Roxane, has three boys and many adventures of her own.

Journaling Prompt: What unusual use have you, or your kids, found for ordinary things?  What adventures did you have with them?

Why Outhouses Were Better

Quote of the Day: Non-plumbers need not apply! - Author - Me - when I write my ad. for my next husband.

(toilet graveyard where I'd like to retire these useless contraptions!)

I just spent the past half hour plunging my toilet. It's still not flowing freely. Ugh, and double yuck, Ugh! What is it with boys and toilets?! And, why don't toilets flush it down like they used to? Between the low-flow enviro-friendly toilets (not so friendly to MY enviro), and the flimsy plungers that turn inside out at the critical moment, or worse yet, splash back at-ya, I'm up to my ankles in overflow! It's like I'm giving the toilet CPR - press 1*2*3 breath, repeat. Still, not responding.

So, I'm ready to apply for a city license to dig a hole and build an outhouse. Really, take the crap back outside where it belongs. Talk about enviro-friendly! I can't think of a better way to "go green!" No more stink. No more clogs. No more splash on my jammies and slippers because you know it all happens at bedtime, and if I don't declog before I fall asleep, sure enough that will be the night that I wake up to pee.

I wonder if mothers put up a little stink of their own when their husbands came home with the brilliant plan to bring the outhouse inside.

"What?!" she might have exclaimed. "I don't want that stuff in my house."

"It's the new thing, honey," he says. "Everyone who's anyone is taking out the pantry and putting in the potty."

"I have to give up canning space for a toilet hole?" she says, baby on hips, broom in hand.

"It will be better," he says. "You won't have to put on your boots and coat to do your daily business."

"I like my privacy," she exclaims. "Especially at night - the door's shut, the moon's full, it's peaceful and quiet."

"I thought you'd like having the facilities right beside the kitchen. Wouldn't interrupt your work at all. It's my way of pampering YOU," he says.

She frowns. She knows better. He's the one who doesn't want to put his boots on and step out in the cold. He and the kids used to take the Sears catalog out there to read and wipe, now they'd be sitting all day in the warm house, next to the kitchen, taking their old sweet time getting off the pot, reading every article in The New York Times.

Good Lord, she thinks. What will they come up with next? Portable telephones so you can't even get groceries without a call for help finding a clean pair of underwear?

Journaling Prompt: Are there any "advancements" in our culture that create more hassle than help for you?

Deerslayer

Quote of the Day: It's those unpredictable moments in life that make it so interesting. - myself

Got in a fight with a deer. She punched my lights out, but I won. Poor Magoo. We had an early morning departure for the boys' section swim meet in Superior, WI, about a two hour drive away. We left home at 5:45 am, killed a deer and had the attention of three local police officers by 6:00 am.

We, in the north say, "Uff-da!" That's one of those words that covers pretty much everything.

The kids were fine. Seat belts work! The banana, on the other hand, took a beating. I ate it anyway once it got light out and my stomach settled a bit.

I live in the heart of the lakes country in Minnesota with lots of beautiful wooded area. Yes, I killed a deer right in town! Of course, my town doesn't look like a typical town with pavement and row houses. My last house had a lake in the backyard. My current house has woods in the backyard, and I'm within city limits -city sewer and water -thank you very much.

If you live in my neck of the woods, the question isn't IF you'll hit a deer, the question is WHEN? I say it goes back to deer parenting. Why don't they teach their young to look BOTH WAYS before crossing the street!?!

Or, maybe deer have poor vision. Hence, the name I gave my deer victim, Magoo. (I'd name it Mr. Magoo the near-sighted cartoon character, but I think it was a female - no antlers). Deer get scared and run INTO cars, or people. True story - a woman was running a mini-marathon in our area last spring at the arboretum, and the deer came bounding out of the woods and ran into her! She received a few bruises and quite a scare.

The first police officer to stop asked, "Do you want the deer?" I gave him a confused look, "No." What would I do with a deer carcass? I'm not a hunter. I don't know how to prepare venison. It's not bad if killed by a real hunter who has a good recipe. Who needs a gun to kill a deer when you've got a mini-van?

Despite the rough start to the day, we made it to the swim meet before it started. I'd asked the lady police officer if she thought the van looked okay to take me there. She said to pay attention to how the tires were responding. If we had missed the meet, Zach (12-year-old) wouldn't have taken first in the 50-yard breast stroke, qualified for state AND regions, and all three of them would have been the missing members of relays, which would have disappointed other swimmers. My twins were put on the same relay - they were half the team! Most of the relay teams make it to state.

It could have been worse. Hitting deer is a common occurrence here, that's why we pay all that money into our insurance. And, really, despite that mishap, it was one of the best section swim meets ever, I had an interesting story to tell (the boys did, too). They swam great. I relaxed by the end of the day and ate a nice meal with another swim family before heading home (they followed me for support), and, hey, another blog topic!

I once read about a woman who brought her terrified cat to the vet. The cat climbed on her head while she drove her there. She wrote, "The only good thing about driving around with a psychotic cat on your head is that later you get to go home and write about it." Oh, the blessings of a writer.

Drive safely, wear your seat belts, and God bless the boring days of life, as well as the exciting ones!!

Journaling Prompt: Tell your story. Write about an accident.