This morning The Boy was telling me a story all about his brother.
The Boy's description of his brother was so detailed and fantastic that
1) it totally made my day to hear him describe it, and
2) I wish I could draw so I could have on paper what it looks like.
I know that there are plenty of you that can draw better than I can so I'm having a contest.
Here's the contest -
I'm going to describe what The Boy told me about his brother, and you are going to create an image of him.
Here's the Prize -
The prize for the best entry will be, ummm, something I have thought of yet, but mark my words,it'll be great (at least according to me.) It'll be a physical object I will mail to you (or give to you if I know you and you live close) and only slightly more valuable than bragging rights. In other words, I might make something or give you something I have in my house but am not going to spend any of my own money on it, PLUS I'll announce the winner on my blog, thus ensuring your place in the pages of my blog, if not my heart.
How to Submit -
Submissions should be either given to me directly if you know me and see me often enough, mailed to me if you know my address (which I'm not posting so you'll just have to know it already) or emailed to hulasunset@gmail.com. Submissions should be received no later than my level of tolerance for receiving submissions. In other words, when I feel I'm done taking submissions, I'm done, and the contest is over. If you see that I've posted the winner's entry on my blog, you can take that as fact that the contest has ended. If I tell you the contest is over, it's over. If I decide it's over and don't tell you it's over, it's still over. Contest ends at my whim.
Submission Description -
You can submit a photo, a painting, a drawing, a collage, a sculpture, shoebox diarama or anything else along those lines.
The Description of The Boy's BrotherI'm not sure if it was his little brother or his big brother. The Boy wasn't too sure either. He also wasn't too sure if I was his brother's mother, but maybe I was. It didn't seem to matter to him. It was his brother nonetheless.
His Brother is a wolf.
He has a tail where his nose should be.
The Wolf is brown, like The Boy (which is super funny because The Boy is a blond-haired and blue-eyed. He's beige if anything, but I couldn't change his mind. His brother was brown like him.)
His butt is in the middle of his shoulder blades, so is his nose. His butt and his nose share the same hole and it's located on his back between his shoulder blades. To poop, he sneezes out his backhole. He poops on leaves that have fallen from trees. The Boy demonstrated this for me. It' looked a lot like "banana" from "Superman / Banana" from Tony Horton's P90x series. See pose below of some woman demonstrating"banana."
The Wolf eats what all wolves eat which is a steady diet of dead cats and spiders (either live or dead, The Wolf does not discriminate.)
He is very nice, and a very good brother and he's nice to our cat, but the cat has to move away and go live with The Boy's girlfriend named Summer (not sure if Summer is real or not.)
--End of Description.
Happy creating everybody. I can't wait to see what y'all come up with.
“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”
--- Douglas Adams
Friday, May 25, 2012
The Big Spider - a dream
This morning I told The Kiddies about a dream I had had that morning.
Hubby and I were in bed about to go to sleep. I noticed on the wall on Hubby's side of the room was a GIANT spider. Its body was oval and about 2 feet long and its legs were even longer. It was a weird tan color. I could hear the 'click click click' as it walked across the wall. I pointed it out to Hubby. He just shrugged and said "oh, it's back again" then turned over and went to sleep.
The Girl asked me what did I do? What happened to the spider? The Boy interjected and said that he entered my dream and killed the spider for me.
Hubby and I were in bed about to go to sleep. I noticed on the wall on Hubby's side of the room was a GIANT spider. Its body was oval and about 2 feet long and its legs were even longer. It was a weird tan color. I could hear the 'click click click' as it walked across the wall. I pointed it out to Hubby. He just shrugged and said "oh, it's back again" then turned over and went to sleep.
The Girl asked me what did I do? What happened to the spider? The Boy interjected and said that he entered my dream and killed the spider for me.
Monday, May 21, 2012
I'm Full Now - a book review
I read The Hunger Games a few weeks ago, all three books.
I think I took a bit longer to read it than most people. Most people I've heard about reading these books tore through them. The Girl tore through them pretty quickly. I tore through it, kinda, but it wasn't because the story was so gripping I just had to read more. I read through it quickly because it wasn't too difficult a read. I mean, it wasn't like trying to get through Moby Dick or War and Peace or anything.
I thought the premise was interesting and I hadn't read anything quite like it in a while. Overall, it was a fun book to read and a nice diversion to get me through my commute to and from work.
It's about this girl who lives in a North American type area, except it isn't the USA. The government has totally taken over and all the districts, sort of like states, and they exist to keep the capitol happy, entertained and well stocked. To keep the districts down, they make the teenagers kill each other and everyone has to watch. This festival of dying teenagers is called "The Hunger Games."
This girl takes care of her mom and sister, kills animals for food and hangs out with this guy who pretty much does the same thing. She's good with weapons, he's good with traps. He digs her, but she's wishy-washy and doesn't know if she likes him back. Her sister is chosen to compete in the Hunger Games and she takes the sister's place. There's another person from her district that is chosen to compete. Over the course of the game they become friends with benefits but surprise surprise, she can't decide if she really likes him or the other guy. This theme is played out throughout the series and it gets tiring. Choose already. Cut one or both of them loose. In the end one of the guys chooses for her, says adios and gets work in another district. My guess is that he finds someone less whiny. She chooses the other guy because he's a sad sack who stays behind and by her side.
Oh and in the course of this girl whining about her boy troubles, she manages to kill a few people, befriend an alcoholic, stay alive, start a revolution and topple a government.
I think I took a bit longer to read it than most people. Most people I've heard about reading these books tore through them. The Girl tore through them pretty quickly. I tore through it, kinda, but it wasn't because the story was so gripping I just had to read more. I read through it quickly because it wasn't too difficult a read. I mean, it wasn't like trying to get through Moby Dick or War and Peace or anything.
I thought the premise was interesting and I hadn't read anything quite like it in a while. Overall, it was a fun book to read and a nice diversion to get me through my commute to and from work.
It's about this girl who lives in a North American type area, except it isn't the USA. The government has totally taken over and all the districts, sort of like states, and they exist to keep the capitol happy, entertained and well stocked. To keep the districts down, they make the teenagers kill each other and everyone has to watch. This festival of dying teenagers is called "The Hunger Games."
This girl takes care of her mom and sister, kills animals for food and hangs out with this guy who pretty much does the same thing. She's good with weapons, he's good with traps. He digs her, but she's wishy-washy and doesn't know if she likes him back. Her sister is chosen to compete in the Hunger Games and she takes the sister's place. There's another person from her district that is chosen to compete. Over the course of the game they become friends with benefits but surprise surprise, she can't decide if she really likes him or the other guy. This theme is played out throughout the series and it gets tiring. Choose already. Cut one or both of them loose. In the end one of the guys chooses for her, says adios and gets work in another district. My guess is that he finds someone less whiny. She chooses the other guy because he's a sad sack who stays behind and by her side.
Oh and in the course of this girl whining about her boy troubles, she manages to kill a few people, befriend an alcoholic, stay alive, start a revolution and topple a government.
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Super Cat and The Dolma Principle
I was going through old blog posts that I had never published and found this little gem written about 6 months ago. I don't remember what prompted me to write it. Usually there's a trigger. Can't recall what it was. I have to admit I did some editing and grammar correcting, but it's pretty much untouched from when I first wrote it.
Enjoy --
When I was in the 5th grade I had to write and make a book. I had to write a story, illustrate it, then make a book. I had to sew the paper together then attach it to the cover made out of cardboard and wallpaper samples.
I remember the stitch the teacher made us use to sew the pages together. I told her that my mom had taught me an easier one that looked the same and served the same purpose and tried to show it to her. She told me that she knew a bit more about sewing than my mom and I should just shut up and use her stitch. I told her that (up to that point in my life) I had never owned a store-bought blanket. All I had were hand-made quilts from my mom. She told me not to be a smart-ass and sent me on my way. (One time when I sprained my knee this same teacher didn't like the way my mom had put on the ace bandage and re-bandaged it. When I told her that that wasn't the way my mom did it she told me she knew a bit more about bandaging knees than my mom did. I told her my mom was an RN and not a 5th grade teacher so my mom knew more about bandages. She told me not to be a smart ass and sent me on my way.)
Anyhow, the book I wrote was called "Super Cat Saves the Onion Fields." (I don't have it anymore. When I was in high school my friend E and I traded elementary school projects for fun. She got my book and I got her project "Uruguay: Land of Discovery." I still have her Uruguay project. I wonder if she still has the Super Cat book.) The book was about a cat who was really really into body building. One day he got a package filled with a cape and boots from a mysterious source and was told that he was to become a super-hero for one very important mission. He was to save the Onion Fields from a group of Mean Men. The dangerous part of the mission was that since kids hate onions, they would most likely throw rocks at him while he was flying to the fight the Mean Men. The night before he was to save the Onion Fields Super Cat snuck into the bedrooms of the children who had the potential to hate him and sprinkled happy potion on them. Super Cat was then able to save the Onion Fields from the Mean Men and the kids still liked him. The End.
So I've been thinking about hate the last week or so. I remember when I was in the 2nd grade I was playing soccer and I told one team mate that I hated another team mate. I don't think I really hated her. I don't even remember her. I think I was just trying to be cool by saying I hated someone.
A short time later we had a lesson at school about hate. We were taught that when one hates another, one wishes all sorts of physical, spiritual and emotional harm to fall upon the one hated. It means that one doesn't care if the other is hurt, is injured, dies. When I learned that it really freaked me out and I vowed never to hate anyone, ever. I still feel this way. I don't remember who taught that lesson, but point taken. No hating.
We all have our own weird prejudices. We all grow up learning how to hate. We learn it from TV, our parents, our schools, society in general. As screwed up as it is, it's true. Some people hate groups of people from other races, some hate people with different philosophies or religion, some hate people based on how they identify themselves. Those are all stupid reasons to hate. I once knew a lady who, as far as I could tell had no prejudices towards people of different races, beliefs, nationality, etc., but she had this penchant for hating people who didn't follow the latest fashion trends. Another stupid, but really odd reason to hate.
I have been known to proclaim that I hate dolmas. They're slimy, they stink, they have a weird aftertaste, they look weird. Is hate for a particular food really hate? Can one harbor malice towards a food? Hating a certain food doesn't mean I think dolma production should cease. I hold no malice towards those who make dolmas for a living. You won't find me at the office of my local dolma distributor with a can of gasoline and a lit match demanding they cease production lest their dolma distribution network be blown into smithereens. The rest of the world is free to eat my portion of dolmas, and I'm happy to live in a dolma-free state of being, politely turning down any dolma offered to me be it on a deli platter or at a buttet. I guess instead of saying I hate dolmas I should just say I think they are really really vile but I recognize that others may see value and deliciousness in this Mediterranean culinary offering. More dolmas for them.
Can the same principle be applied to people? I've met plenty of people I don't want to spend anytime with. It's more of a personality thing than any other quality. They whine too much. They complain too much. They're too pious about their opinions and think everyone else is stupid. I don't hate them. I don't wish them harm. I just don't want to be around them.
There are people at work I don't wish to know socially. It doesn't mean I hate any of them. It doesn't mean I can't be courteous to them or work with them on a team with, complete a project with. It just means that I don't want to spend any time with them when I'm not being paid to do so. And oh my gosh, it's possible (gasp!) that someone may not find me the most agreeable person and not like me. As crazy as it sounds, it just might be true; I may not be everyone's cuppa tea. There may just be things about me that rubs someone the wrong way. Imagine that.
I think that everyone has something to offer. You just have to be patient enough and strong enough to dig through all the muck to find it. Perhaps the whiner and I like the same books. Perhaps the complainer and I both like to watch Romantic Comedys. Perhaps I will run across a dolma lover who hates raddishes. I love raddishes. We each will have something to give to each other. We can both find value in each other through our likes and dislikes.
I try to teach my kids that you don't have to like everyone, but you do have to treat everyone with the same respect you want to be shown (how golden rule of me, eh?) You don't have to be friends with everyone but you should be friendly to everyone.
Don't be a jerk is what it boils down to. That's the Dolma Principle - Don't be a jerk.
Enjoy --
When I was in the 5th grade I had to write and make a book. I had to write a story, illustrate it, then make a book. I had to sew the paper together then attach it to the cover made out of cardboard and wallpaper samples.
I remember the stitch the teacher made us use to sew the pages together. I told her that my mom had taught me an easier one that looked the same and served the same purpose and tried to show it to her. She told me that she knew a bit more about sewing than my mom and I should just shut up and use her stitch. I told her that (up to that point in my life) I had never owned a store-bought blanket. All I had were hand-made quilts from my mom. She told me not to be a smart-ass and sent me on my way. (One time when I sprained my knee this same teacher didn't like the way my mom had put on the ace bandage and re-bandaged it. When I told her that that wasn't the way my mom did it she told me she knew a bit more about bandaging knees than my mom did. I told her my mom was an RN and not a 5th grade teacher so my mom knew more about bandages. She told me not to be a smart ass and sent me on my way.)
Anyhow, the book I wrote was called "Super Cat Saves the Onion Fields." (I don't have it anymore. When I was in high school my friend E and I traded elementary school projects for fun. She got my book and I got her project "Uruguay: Land of Discovery." I still have her Uruguay project. I wonder if she still has the Super Cat book.) The book was about a cat who was really really into body building. One day he got a package filled with a cape and boots from a mysterious source and was told that he was to become a super-hero for one very important mission. He was to save the Onion Fields from a group of Mean Men. The dangerous part of the mission was that since kids hate onions, they would most likely throw rocks at him while he was flying to the fight the Mean Men. The night before he was to save the Onion Fields Super Cat snuck into the bedrooms of the children who had the potential to hate him and sprinkled happy potion on them. Super Cat was then able to save the Onion Fields from the Mean Men and the kids still liked him. The End.
So I've been thinking about hate the last week or so. I remember when I was in the 2nd grade I was playing soccer and I told one team mate that I hated another team mate. I don't think I really hated her. I don't even remember her. I think I was just trying to be cool by saying I hated someone.
A short time later we had a lesson at school about hate. We were taught that when one hates another, one wishes all sorts of physical, spiritual and emotional harm to fall upon the one hated. It means that one doesn't care if the other is hurt, is injured, dies. When I learned that it really freaked me out and I vowed never to hate anyone, ever. I still feel this way. I don't remember who taught that lesson, but point taken. No hating.
We all have our own weird prejudices. We all grow up learning how to hate. We learn it from TV, our parents, our schools, society in general. As screwed up as it is, it's true. Some people hate groups of people from other races, some hate people with different philosophies or religion, some hate people based on how they identify themselves. Those are all stupid reasons to hate. I once knew a lady who, as far as I could tell had no prejudices towards people of different races, beliefs, nationality, etc., but she had this penchant for hating people who didn't follow the latest fashion trends. Another stupid, but really odd reason to hate.
I have been known to proclaim that I hate dolmas. They're slimy, they stink, they have a weird aftertaste, they look weird. Is hate for a particular food really hate? Can one harbor malice towards a food? Hating a certain food doesn't mean I think dolma production should cease. I hold no malice towards those who make dolmas for a living. You won't find me at the office of my local dolma distributor with a can of gasoline and a lit match demanding they cease production lest their dolma distribution network be blown into smithereens. The rest of the world is free to eat my portion of dolmas, and I'm happy to live in a dolma-free state of being, politely turning down any dolma offered to me be it on a deli platter or at a buttet. I guess instead of saying I hate dolmas I should just say I think they are really really vile but I recognize that others may see value and deliciousness in this Mediterranean culinary offering. More dolmas for them.
Can the same principle be applied to people? I've met plenty of people I don't want to spend anytime with. It's more of a personality thing than any other quality. They whine too much. They complain too much. They're too pious about their opinions and think everyone else is stupid. I don't hate them. I don't wish them harm. I just don't want to be around them.
There are people at work I don't wish to know socially. It doesn't mean I hate any of them. It doesn't mean I can't be courteous to them or work with them on a team with, complete a project with. It just means that I don't want to spend any time with them when I'm not being paid to do so. And oh my gosh, it's possible (gasp!) that someone may not find me the most agreeable person and not like me. As crazy as it sounds, it just might be true; I may not be everyone's cuppa tea. There may just be things about me that rubs someone the wrong way. Imagine that.
I think that everyone has something to offer. You just have to be patient enough and strong enough to dig through all the muck to find it. Perhaps the whiner and I like the same books. Perhaps the complainer and I both like to watch Romantic Comedys. Perhaps I will run across a dolma lover who hates raddishes. I love raddishes. We each will have something to give to each other. We can both find value in each other through our likes and dislikes.
I try to teach my kids that you don't have to like everyone, but you do have to treat everyone with the same respect you want to be shown (how golden rule of me, eh?) You don't have to be friends with everyone but you should be friendly to everyone.
Don't be a jerk is what it boils down to. That's the Dolma Principle - Don't be a jerk.
April Wordle
A little late posting the April Wordle. Looks like I wasn't very prolific in April. Only two posts to contribute to the wordle. I LOVE that it says COFFEE in big bold letters.
Enjoy
Enjoy
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Nice Pictures - Where'd you steal them from?
Some of the pictures in my blog were taken by a photographer called Julie Michele. Some of the pictures were either taken by me or someone I know. Some of the pictures were ripped right from the internet, mostly from google image searches from photographers to whom I may or may not give credit.
Rest assured I make no money from any of it.