Bugs and Bunnies

So, On Account o' Today Bein' Pig Callers Day...

2009-06-14T16:21:00.002-04:00

I bring you a gen-yew-ine, bonafide champeen circa 2008, with a bit of a twist on the typical:

June 11th is King Kamehameha Day!

2009-06-11T09:58:00.025-04:00

If you're lucky enough to be anywhere in Hawaii today, then you get to party on through the festivities of King Kamehameha Day, and you're having a fabulous time! If you're not lucky enough to be anywhere in Hawaii today (like me), well, then you and I can live vicariously as I tell you all about what we're missing.

King Kamehameha Day is celebrated annually in Hawaii on June 11th, to honor the life and times of its greatest statesman, warrior, and king, known as Kamehameha the Great.

Some interesting historical facts on the day

King Kamehameha Day was established by royal decree of the ruling great-grandson, Kamehameha V, in 1871, and first celebrated on June 11, 1872.
It is one of the first holidays proclaimed by the Governer of Hawaii and the State Legislature upon Hawaii's transformation to statehood in 1959.
King Kamehameha Day is the only holiday in the United States created to honor a once-reigning monarch in the only state that was once a kingdom.
2009 marks the 137th anniversary of the celebration of King Kamehameha Day.

Who was King Kamehameha?

At the time of his birth, Hawaiians believed Kamehameha fulfilled the traditional prophesy that there would be a male born who would vanquish all other chiefs, becoming the greatest of all Hawaiian chiefs, and that the sign of his birth would be a comet. Kamehameha's actual birthdate is not specifically known, but is sometimes listed as between 1748 and 1761, and some believe it was 1758 - a year that Halley's Comet was visible from Hawaii.

He spent his childhood being trained in warfare skills and preparing for the role of warrior-king of the Island of Hawaii. He went on to use these skills as the first king to unify the Hawai'ian Islands: Ni'ihau, Kaua'i, O'ahu, Moloka'i, Lānaʻi, Kaho'olawe, Maui, and Hawai'i. Once this was achieved, Kamehameha ruled in peace for the rest of his life: establishing trade with foreign countries, introducing new plant and animal life, promoting agriculture, and fostering industry. He was known as the "Napoleon of the Pacific" for his achievements in warfare and diplomacy, and died in 1819.

King Kamehameha Day Festivities

The earliest observances of the day included various competitions: horse racing, Velocipede races, sack races, wheelbarrow races, and foot races. In 1901, the tradition of the lei draping ceremony was added, where statues of King Kamehameha are decorated with leis.

In 1939, the King Kamehameha Celebration Commission was established and charged with organizing and running all festival activities. Today, those activities include:

The traditional lei draping ceremony of King Kamehameha's statues
The King Kamehameha Hula Competition, which has gained international attention
The floral parades held at many locations throughout Hawaii, which include what has become a favorite feature: traditional pa'u riders. (The pa'u riders reperesent a royal court let by a queen on horseback, followed by princesses representing the 8 major islands of Hawaii and Molokini.)
The Ho'olaule'a, which means "celebration," and is a big block party with food and music.
The cultural exhibits set up throughout Kapi'olani Park, which are full of arts and crafts, games, sports, etc.
And of course, there are feasts. (What celebration would be complete without those?)

So, if you're there, have a wonderful King Kamehameha Day! And if you're not, start saving your pennies - you have 364 days to pile 'em up so you can get to King Kamehameha Day 2010.

Aloha!

Sources:

Kamehameha Day (Wikipedia)

King Kamehameha Celebration (Library of Congress)

Today is King Kamehameha Day! (NowPublic.com)

Kamehameha I (Wikipedia)

King Kamehameha Day (Boston Globe Sunday Magazine)

Hey, Baby...What's Your Type?

2009-06-04T14:20:00.025-04:00

Types.

Even the most open-minded among us tend to pigeonhole people into Types. We use Type to describe personality: Type A, Type B, Type Where-Did-They-Get-This-Guy? We use Type to accept or reject possible romantic interests: "Him?? Ewww. He is, like, so not my type." We use Type to explain behavior: "I knew she wouldn't green light that experimental project. She is such a pessimist."

We even use Type as we run our own lives. Back in college, my friends chose their class sections based on the time the class met, because, "No way did I sign up for that 8 AM class. I'm totally not a Morning Person." Now, me? I did pick those 8 AM classes. But it wasn't that I'm a Morning Person. Because I'm not. I hate getting up early. (So why did I pick 8 AM classes, you ask? Well, that's another story for another time.)

Aaaanyway, the whole Morning Person Business brings me to my point for today (and you thought I didn't have one): what if there isn't an existing Type that fits you? See, every time I've heard someone say, "I'm a (insert time-of-day here) person," I've only ever heard two choices to insert here: Morning...or Night. And I don't fit into either one of those Types.

My non-conformity is most noticeable in my writing life. Take today, for example. (Or really, any day in the last oh-so-many months.) This morning, the itch to write made itself known. My fingers alternately clenched into fists and then splayed wide open, and my eyes lingered on my writing bag as I hurried past it to get the kiddos ready and off to school. Then, once they stampeded onto the bus, I hurried to finish the mundane tasks of life: brushing my teeth (oh, yes...don't get too close to me at the bus stop), folding underwear (which I assumed were clean), and shoving Dust Bunnies back into their hidey holes. Once all of that was out of the way, I finally cracked open the laptop, ready to pour out some thoughts.

And that's where it all came to a screeching halt. What to write? What to write? Twiddle, twiddle, twiddle. I realized I could either waste time with an empty head and an absent muse, or I could move on to errands (grocery run, pay the dentist run, get a new house key made run) so I could come back home and try to write again. So, I ran the errands, came home, unloaded the truck, put away the groceries (well, mostly), then sat down at my computer to try again.

Still, nothing interesting seemed to be flowing. So, I checked email. I looked in on Facebook. I leafed through writer mags. Leaf, leaf, leaf. And then: Oh! Hey! What a great quote! Scribble, scribble, scribble. Finally, inspiration strikes! Yes! I have today's blog post! Gleefully, I sign into my blog, and it's wonderful, and the words are tumbling over each other in their haste to flow out of my fingers to the keyboard.

And then, I glance at the clock. Crappity-crap-crap! The kiddos will be home in a little over an hour, and I only just got started, and I have so much great stuff to write. But once Handsome Boy and Lovely Girl come bounding off of the bus, my laptop shuts down and my pen lies idle, because at that point, my day belongs to them. I'm not the Type who can write while kiddos clamor around me, eager to show me all their treasures from their day. Thus, my writing mojo must be cut short.

So, I'm not a Morning Person. And I'm not a Night Person. I'm not even an I-Can-Write-in-Chaos person. I don't fit. I'm the square peg trying to squeeze into a round hole.

So you know what? It's time for a new Type.

I'm an Afternoon Person!

So there.

Who Knew There Was a Word for THAT?

2009-05-28T15:53:00.020-04:00

So, I was Googling around the other day - as I so often do to feed my need for learning about all things weird, wacky, and/or wonderful - and did a search for "funny words." I found some great ones and wish to share, so that you, too, can bulk up your vocabulary. Enjoy!

Hobbledehoy - an awkward, gawky youngster existing somewhere between a man and a boy. Ten points anyone who can find the word describing the female version of this. (Though we females are, in general, a graceful and sophisticated lot, there are those among us - ahem - who harbor a particular fondness for some well-delivered potty humor.)

Borborygmus - the sound of a belly that rumbles. As in, "Jaime's ever-louder borborygmus told his dad he'd better get that mac-n-cheese on the table - and quick."

Pogontrophy - the cultivation of a beard. As in, "Gerald Ottenbein gazed dejectedly at his reflection. His first-ever attempt at pogontrophy was not going at all well."

Tittle - the dot above the letter "i." Really? Who thinks up these things?

Callipygian - having a beautifully shaped behind, as in, "Persistent visits to the gym can help one to attain the callipygian ideal." I'm just not even gonna touch this one...

Defenestration - a noun meaning the throwing of a person or thing out a window. Yes, a person or thing. A friend and regular reader of this blog called my attention to Defenestration.com, where you can read all about a sculpture on the corner of 6th and Howard Street in San Francisco that shows defenestration in action (with things, though, not people). Very interesting, and worth a click - or a real live visit, if you're able.

And the final entry for today:

Floccinaucinihilipilification* - the act of judging something to be worthless. As in, "I find her floccinaucinihilipilification of the pursuit of social status quite refreshing." According to Wikipedia, floccinaucinihilipilification is listed as "one of the longest words in the English language." And believe it or not, floccinaucinihilipilification can be found in the Oxford English Dictionary as far back as 1741.

*You know, it's quite fun typing floccinaucinihilipilification. I even tried spelling it with only one "c," to see if Spell Check really has this ridiculously long word in its arsenal, or if my repeated typing of floccinaucinihilipilification just forced it into such a major conniption that it imploded, leaving not so much as a wisp of smoke behind.

Guess what? Floccinaucinihilipilification is actually in there.

Cool.

Today's Edition of Things You Just Don't See Every Day

2009-05-25T09:20:00.017-04:00

We here at Chez Wheedleton used part of our holiday weekend to take in a movie. Turns out, it was mildly eventful.

First, we went to Rita's Italian Ice for refreshments while I tried out a new app I recently downloaded to my phone to order our tickets. I had full bars. I was in a 3G area. It was supposed to be Quick and Easy. However, our anticipated Quick and Easy ticket purchase rapidly morphed into Seemingly Endless and Recalcitrant, so we gave up and just drove the ten minutes to the theater and bought our tickets the Old Fashioned Way - at the ticket booth.

So, tickets in hand, we realized we were a full hour early for the show we purchased. Now, Handsome Boy + any kind of wait = DWtH (Disaster Waiting to Happen), so we took a walk around the shopping center attached to the movie complex to occupy our time. With not much to see, and stores about to close for the day, we dashed into the only store that could be browsed: a Walgreens. My husband C followed the kiddos as they followed their instincts directly to the toy aisle, while I followed my instincts directly to the lipstick aisle.

Understand, I am by no means a Girly-Girl (not that there's anything wrong with that), but I do like to wear a bit of make-up, and my trusty Revlon lipstick (Super Lustrous Shiny Sheers #845 Sheer Plumdrop, to be precise) has been down to that little blob-of-extra-lip-stuff-they-use-at-the-bottom-of-the-tube-to-keep-the-lipstick-from-falling-out-of-the-top-of-the-tube-every-time-you-twist-it-up for quite a while, now.

Anyway, there I was, searching the make-up wall for my favorite lip stuff (which it seems Revlon doesn't make anymore, 'cause I can't find it anywhere) when Handsome Boy sauntered up to me with his hands behind his back and a tell-tale impish grin on his face, followed a little ways behind by C and Lovely Girl, who had suspiciously blank faces.

"What do you have?" I asked, raising an eyebrow and trying to lean around to see behind him. He is notorious for begging cookies and candy from his father in the store, and his father is notorious for buying them for him, and I had no intention of once again being the Smuggler of Snacks into the movie theater just because I'm the only one in this family who carries a bag of any sort.

Well, Handsome Boy seemed to be struggling with two things - whatever was behind his back, and keeping a straight face. He quickly failed at both, yanking a packaged whoopie cushion out in front of him, squeezing with all his might, and erupting into uncontrollable guffaws...along with the rest of us. Alas, the fun only lasted for a few seconds, since the store announced it was closing, so we made our exit exactly as we had made our entrance: sans lipstick or whoopie cushion...or snacks.

With a half hour to go until movie time and no stores left to invade, we made our way back to the theater, bought the requisite snacks and drinks, and settled into our seats. Well, almost. We managed about a minute of settling in before C said, "I think my seat is broken. Is your seat broken? I think my seat is broken." Meanwhile, he was wiggling all kinds of ways to try to get comfortable, and he looked like a kid who really needed to use The Facilities, so we decided to slide down to different seats and try again. This time the Settling Process made its way to completion, and we got set to watch the two thousand and one promos and commercials until the movie started.

Then, a few sips into my Dr. Pepper, I realized that - unlike C - I really did need to use The Facilities, so I excused myself and hurried off so as to hurry back so as to not miss the actual movie we came to see. Upon entering The Facilities, I found I had my pick of "seating," as it was utterly deserted. It was after I made my choice and secured the stall door that I saw it: a Thing You Just Don't See Every Day. So, I did what anyone would do: I snapped a picture, then chose a different stall to complete my business before hurrying back to the movie.

After I sat down, and with mere minutes to go before the movie started, I leaned over to C and the kiddos and conspiratorily whispered to them my Facilities Discovery. Then I pulled out my camera and showed them the shot. They each gazed down at the photo, then back at me. And every single one of them had only one question:

"Did you get the quarter?"

A Leap of Faith

2009-05-13T16:34:00.005-04:00

Do you want to know why I work out?

It's because when my four-and-a-half-foot-tall, sixty-some-pound son leaps down from the bus steps, sprints full-speed up the road, and then hurls himself through the air at me - arms wide and grin even wider...

...he has complete faith that I will catch him.

The Consequences of Childhood Insecurities

2009-05-07T07:58:00.002-04:00

I am five feet, nine inches tall. If I were a guy, that would be considered on the short side. Since I'm not a guy, I'm considered to be on the tall side, and have been so since elementary school. Well, except for my junior high years, when the other girls caught up to me for a while. (The junior high years. They're such an anomoly. I wish I could have just skipped them altogether...)

Anyway, if you, too, were on the tall side growing up, you - like me - had to wear floods far more often than your fragile psyche approved of. (You know, floods: pants that were most unfashionably several inches higher than the tops of your shoes.) I was so relieved when the early 80's rolled around, and it became the "it" thing in our school to wear funky striped socks with jeans rolled clear up to our knees. And when the legwarmer-with-jeans thing came into style, well, it was a beautiful thing. In fact, I think capris were invented by tall people who endured the ridicule of having to wear floods during their formative years.

So, ever since I started making my own way in the world, I've made sure that every single pair of pants I buy comes clear down to the tops of my shoes. And if they actually drag the ground some...even better. And when laundry days come, I stretch every single pair of pants as long as I can every time they come out of the washer, then hang them on a rack to dry. It is the ultimate in flood insurance.

Which brings me to this morning. It's rainy here on the East Coast. Really, really, really rainy. So I pulled on my comfy, well-worn, and impressively long walking-to-the-bus-stop sweatpants, and the kiddos and I dutifully dodged puddles and tiptoed through the minefield of worms that cover the road between home and bus stop. Then I dutifully picked my way back through the puddles and worms as I headed back home.

As soon as I got in the door, I kicked off my shoes and headed downstairs to grapple yet again with The Little White Insulting Box. After firing everything up, I walked back to stand on the Wii Fit board and looked down for a moment to steel myself against another round of insults, and...

Wait...

What is that?

Well, it seems that fabulously long, flood-insured pants actually do have a bit of a downside: there on the carpet wriggled a very bewildered worm that unwittingly hitched a ride inside Chez Wheedleton courtesy of the hem of my ground-dragging pants.

And I don't care. I will never wear floods again.

Bring it on, worms!

Oh, to Crawl Inside His Mind

2009-05-02T11:05:00.008-04:00

So, there I was: sitting at the ball fields for the fourth time this week, watching Handsome Boy's little league game that I was sure would be called soon on account of rain, huddling under one big golf umbrella that I shared with Lovely Girl, who sat with her own chair squinched right up next to mine. My husband C was standing next to us, trying in vain to fend off the raindrops with his own terribly small travel umbrella. And all three of us had our eyes trained on Handsome Boy, out there in center field, braving the rain along with the rest of his team.

I don't know what inning it was, but there was a lull in the action. I was looking hopefully back toward the dugout and chanting in my head: Please call the game! Please call the game!, when I heard C say, "What's he doing?" I whipped my head around and looked back toward our little center fielder.

There stood Handsome Boy, still dutifully at his outfield post, still more or less keeping his eyes focused towards the batter at home plate. But he was not in ready position. Instead, he was gyrating around, waving his hands in the air, waggling his little bottom, bopping along to a beat only he could hear. He jammed along for several moments in his own private dance club. The outfield coach was gamely trying to ignore it. C, Lovely Girl and I burst into uncontrollable giggles.

Finally, I managed to call out to him, "What are you doing?"

Handsome Boy looked our way, smiled his usual impish grin, and kept right on dancing through the inning, stopping only when the batter hit the ball to see if it was coming his way. When his team got the third out, he trotted back to the dugout with them, leaving the three of us still in hysterics and wondering what on earth he was doing out there.

Two batters later, with the rain now coming down in sheets, the coaches finally called the game. Handsome Boy gathered his things and bounced over to where we stood waiting. As soon as he got within earshot, we were all asking, "What was all that in the outfield?"

He smiled at us, eyes wide, as if to say we were less than observant, and not too terribly bright. "I was doing my rain dance," he said. "You know, to keep the raindrops from getting on me."

Huh. Here we were using umbrellas to dodge those raindrops. And all we really needed were a couple of rad moves...

Friday Funny

2009-04-17T15:09:00.004-04:00

For all those Phineas and Ferb fans out there:

Bullseye! (Sort Of)

2009-04-15T10:08:00.008-04:00

This is a picture of my foyer. To get to that window at the top, I need a 14 foot extendable ladder - which is why that window at the top, as well as the light hanging behind it, are eternally dusty. Oh, you say. So that must be a smudge of dirt in that one window pane up there. Ewww:

But wait. Before you decide you'd never hire me to clean the windows in your house (although, granted, that's probably a wise decision, regardless), take a closer look:

Huh! You say. That's not dirt. What the devil IS that, anyway? A handle or something? Now, keep in mind the daily adventure here at Chez Wheedleton that is raising a small son with more than his share of energy and not nearly enough foresight, and look even closer:

You're right - that's not dirt. And it's not a handle. Or something. That is a NERF dart. Yep. Fourteen feet up in the air, and stuck to the window. Shot from a NERF gun by barely-four-foot-tall Handsome Boy.

And how did he manage this incredible feat?

From eighteen feet away, standing at the top of the stairs in the open foyer, directly opposite said window.

He actually came to me and asked me to get it down for him.

Yeah. Not nearly enough foresight.

We're gonna work on that...

You Name It, And Somebody's Probably Put It On a Stick

2009-03-26T14:36:00.022-04:00

March 28 is Something on a Stick Day. Seriously. And it seems there's lots of folks out there who especially enjoy their culinary delights presented via stick. As Food-On-A-Stick.com professes:

"...all food tastes better when it's stick-mounted..."

(It seems the site never quite took off, despite the grand plans described therein, but it's still a great quote, don't you think?) Aaaanyway, in honor of the day, I surfed around some more for a sample of what's out there.

If you're a Do-It-Yourself'er, The Food Network has you covered, with Food on a Stick, an episode from George Duran's Ham on the Street. The online article has links to recipes to make your own food on a stick: Edible Vegetable Skewers, Carmel Apple Pie on a stick, Corn Dog Variations (including Gherkins, baby corn, shrimp, mushrooms, apple slices, pineapple chunks, and hard-boiled eggs). There's even a recipe link for Gnocchi con Polpette di Manzo - and yes, that's on a stick, too.

If you'd rather have someone else serve up the goods, visit the Iowa State Fair, which boasts more than 40 varieties of food on a stick on their website - on its own special page, even: Food On-A-Stick.

And if you just want to window-shop, then here's a video that's just what you need. It brings you on a virtual tour of the culinary delights of the Minnesota State Fair, whose vendors serve (at the time this video was shot) 59 different varieties of food on a stick, spanning the range of healthy to not so healthy. (Really. There's at least one healthy one in the bunch.) But don't just take my word for it:

One last note: the Minnesota State Fair is held annually over Labor Day weekend, so if you think you'd like try any of these culinary delights for yourself, you might wanna mark your calendars...and don't forget to pack your stretchy pants.

Divine Intervention - Or, The Universe Has Seen Fit to Mess With Me Yet Again

2009-03-23T13:55:00.008-04:00

I haven't worked out for about a month. Long story, but I haven't. So anyway, I decided today to try to get back into some semblance of a normal routine. I pulled on some sweats, grabbed my sneaks and a water bottle, and trudged down to the family room and the personal virtual gym that is our Wii Fit.

I powered up the tv, the speakers, and the Wii.

So far, so good.

I grabbed a remote, put out the balance board, and popped the disc in the console.

Still good.

I clicked on Wii Fit. I clicked on my avatar. I endured sarcastic nagging from Wii Fit: "Well, if it isn't Mommy," it said. And: "Your last workout was 31 days ago."

As if I didn't know that.

Resisting the urge to smash The Little White Insulting Box (controlled rage is a powerful thing, and I have it in spades these days), I clicked through to begin the body test.

But instead of saying, "Starting up..." and asking me to "Step on," The Little White Insulting Box showed me The Black Screen of Death and told me my remote needs batteries. So I hauled myself upstairs and dug through the drawer in the kitchen where all batteries are kept. I found C's. I found nine-volts. I found a brand new package of like, twenty triple A's. I even found these teeny button cell batteries that I don't even know where the heck they came from. But I did not find any double A's.

OK. Whatever.

So I trudged back downstairs and picked up a different remote that didn't need new batteries.

Ha!

But, since The First Remote was already synched with The Little White Insulting Box, it wouldn't recognize The Second Remote.

Alrighty. So then, I plucked the supposedly dead batteries out of The First Remote to kill the connection, and tried again. Still, The Little White Insulting Box would not budge, and The Second Remote was showing signs of acute rejection issues. So I shut the whole shebang down, counted to 30, and booted it all back up again.

This time, The Little White Insulting Box accepted The Second Remote, which at that point was technically The Second First Remote, but whatever.

Once again, I clicked to begin the body test.

No dice. I got The Black Screen of Death yet again, only this time it was the balance board that was out of juice.

And do you know what kind of batteries that balance board takes?

Oh, yes.

Double A's.

So I hurled some insults of my own right back at The Little White Insulting Box, shut the whole thing down and left it down, threw on a sweatshirt, fired up the music good and loud on my phone - which is always charged and which never insults me - and stomped out of the house for a long, long walk.

Not to Worry

2009-03-20T16:03:00.005-04:00

For those of you who have been checking in to see my book reviews the last couple of weeks, but have found none, I apologize for disappointing you. Personal circumstances have rather suddenly intervened for the moment, but rest assured, Book Reviews and Author Spotlights will be continuing as soon as things start pulling back together. In the meantime, I'm trying to blog twice a week if not more on random topics, so please enjoy my ramblings until I can get back to my more bookish Friday topics.

Thanks in advance for sticking with me,

Kim

Yep. There's Even a Museum for That...

2009-03-19T14:22:00.014-04:00

So, Handsome Boy and I were sitting in the truck the other day, waiting for Lovely Girl's turn at piano lessons to be done, discussing what to do over Spring Break.

"Are we going somewhere, Mommy?"

"Hmmm. Maybe."

"Well, are we? Please tell me? Pleeeeeeease??"

"Can't. It's a surprise." (Which is Mom-speak for: I have no earthly idea what we're doing for Spring Break, so I'm gonna stall for a while.)

But Handsome Boy was not to be denied, and after repeated pesterings of tellmetellmetellmetellme, I relented:

"OK. It was gonna be a surprise, but we're going to the Poop Museum."

For a minute there, his eyes were shining. "Really? Is there really a Poop Museum?" He had a huge - and immensely hopeful - grin on his face.

I laughed. "Nah. I made it up."

"I bet there is. Look it up on your phone!" he shrieked, climbing over the seats to wedge himself next to me.

So, we did. I fired up the browser, typed "poop museum" in the search box, and wouldn't ya know: there really is a Poop Museum. We were totally excited, but then looked closer and found out...it's in Japan.

Well. That's out. It would bust the budget. But it did get me thinking, so later that night I searched for odd museums (on a much more eye-friendly laptop screen), just to see what's out there. And man, is there a lot.

If you, like us here at Chez Wheedleton, have not made your Spring Break plans, and share our questionable sense of humor, here are some odd ideas for ya. Some are virtual (aka online only) and so are wallet-friendly (aka FREE!). Others are brick and mortar. Enjoy:

The Incredible World of Navel Fluff - Some call it belly button lint, but yes, it is what you think. Instead of navel fluff from lots of folks, however, this museum showcases the world's biggest collection of navel fluff (according to the folks at Guiness)...from one individual. One! It's a web page, not a brick and mortar, but oddly curious. Go on! Click the link!

Rune's Barf Bag Collection - Also an online collection, this oddity only shows pics of unused barf bags (whew!). Interesting site! One can learn the various terms used to refer to barf bags - spew bag is a funny one - as well as the story behind the various bags in the collection. You can even buy some from the Barf Bag Store link. How convenient!

Toilet Seat Art Museum - Barney Smith's museum can be found in Alamo Heights, Texas, but if you can't go, click on the link to see some pics and read all about it. Each of the over 700 toilet seats on display is his own personal design, and he's been making them for 30 years.

Gallery of Huge Beings - Another virtual collection. It is what it says: pictures of giant statues beckoning travelers from the road - hawking everything from burgers to legends to tires to tourist attractions. Go take a look, and let me know how many of them you've actually visited.

Cockroach Hall of Fame - Ewww. And it's a brick and mortar you can really visit down in Plano, Texas. It isn't your average bug museum, though. These ones are all gussied up like famous people. Hmmm. Worth a look if you're down that way, I'd say.

Washington Banana Museum - This one is virtual, but features an antiques store in Auburn, Washington, where you can see some of the things up close and personal. The online collection features some 4000 banana things: artifacts, folk art, and all sorts of odd and wonderful banana stuff. The website gives you a nice view, but it would be awfully fun to visit the store if you're in the neighborhood.

Sulabh International Museum of Toilets - Oh, yes, this one is brick and mortar, but unless you live in India, it'll be quite an expensive trip. Fear not, the website shows lots of interesting photos of the exhibits - all kinds of potties from ornate to not-so-ornate, as well as information about the evolution of this most necessary item.

Museum of Dirt - This one is a little closer to home - Boston, Massachusetts. And it is a collection of dirt. That's it. Nothing more. Just dirt. Jars and jars of dirt. But it's dirt collected from all kinds of far flung places, and who wouldn't want to take a gander at that? You can even send them your own contributions. Cool! But if you want to visit, call first to be sure they're open.

There are so many more weird and wonderful museums out there, but I'm out of space. Drop me a comment and tell me about some that you know of.

In Case of Insanity, Click "Play."

2009-03-15T10:00:00.008-04:00

Though my children are total angels who in this current window of time would never, ever, ever, ever roll their eyes at me, or talk back, or argue, or break rules (ahem!) - I know those teenage years are coming. Hence, the discovery and posting of this Video Insurance Policy Against the Future Possibility of Parental Insanity.

For now, it's a riot! For later, it just might be a sanity saver:

*Special thanks to C.H. for calling it to my attention!

I Have to Save a What, Now?

2009-03-12T17:49:00.009-04:00

I am no fan of spiders. You can read about my non-spider love here and here. Ever since we moved into our current home, and those big, black, hairy, sinisterly speedy wolf spiders made their presence known, it took me a full 18 months before I would sit in my basement family room without tucking my feet firmly on the couch cushions and absolutely no further south.

Well. If you look over there on the right sidebar, you will see that March 14 is Save a Spider Day.

So, OK. I'll participate.

Well, let me qualify. If "Save a Spider Day" referred to the spider plant:

...then yeah, I'd save a spider.

Or, if "Save a Spider Day" referred to Lamborghini Spyders:

...particularly the blue variety, then absolutely yeah, I'd save a spider. Or rather, a Spyder.

Even if "Save a Spider Day" referred to the famed Webslinger himself:

...then yeah, I'd save a spider. (Or can I call him "Spidey?")

But, you and you and you and I all know what "Save a Spider Day" really refers to:

...yep. Good ol' fashioned arachnids.

Ewww.

But in the spirit of the holiday, I'll offer this Treaty: If they stay in the great outdoors - where they belong - I won't squish them.

If, however, they violate said Treaty and step even one of their creepy, hairy, icky eight legs into my humble home...

...well then. Ya know. Holiday or no: Squish!

Happy Save a Spider Day.

Strange Bedfellows II

2009-03-09T21:18:00.006-04:00

Add this to the list of odd things one does not expect to find in one's bed:

Oh, the joys - and surprises - of raising a small boy...

Time's A Wastin'

2009-03-04T14:51:00.006-05:00

So, I'm meandering online, sorta wasting time and sorta looking for inspiration for a blog post. Then up pops MSN.com with a post on online time wasters. Awesome! I Googled "online time wasters" and came up with a goldmine of suggestions.

So, when you're Facebooked out, when your Twitter fix has tweeted its last (at least for now), and when the Bubble Wrap page has lost it's luster, check out these sites and find whole new ways to fritter away some time:

1. Falling Sand Game - Who new virtual Earth elements could be so much fun?

2. Stuff on My Cat - Totally not interactive, but so funny - especially if you're tired to the point of silly - to click through pictures of, well, cats with stuff on them. Like remote controls. Stupid hats. Feather boas. Great for a good giggle.

3. Subservient Chicken - If you've ever had the desire to make a chicken do your bidding, check this one out. The little guys will love it! Just type in what you want the person-in-a-chicken-suit-standing-in-a-living-room to do, hit "submit," and watch him do it! (And a very polite chicken it is, too. We typed, "Thank you chicken!" when we were done, and he graciously took a bow.)

4. Story Blender.com - Upload a photo, choose a mouth, record your voice, and presto! Instant talking photo.

5. The Dialectizer - Enter the URL of a web page of your choice, select the dialect you prefer (among the choices: redneck, jive, cockney, Elmer Fudd, the Swedish Chef), hit "Dialectize," and the page is translated into that dialect. Useful? Probably not. Silly? Probably. OK, definitely. But who cares? It's fun!

6. Let Them Sing It For You - Type in the text of your choice, and this website sings those words back to you using clips from famous songs. No frills, but fun to do.

Give 'em a try. Then let me know what you think!

Read Across America Day

2009-03-02T11:43:00.009-05:00

March 2, 2009 is a busy day. It marks the twelfth annual Read Across America Day, and it marks what would be the 105th birthday of that most beloved children's author - Dr. Seuss.

Read Across America Day is the largest reading event in the United States. Sponsored by the National Education Association (NEA), it is a program whose focus is on "motivating children to read, in addition to helping them master basic skills."

Lest anyone feel left out, this is a celebration for all, from the tiniest of kiddos to the most grown-up of teenagers, and everyone in between. And the reading is not limited to the venerable Dr. Seuss's tomes. Reading is reading - just grab a great book and get to it!

Teachers, librarians, parents and others across the country are having fun right now with their kids, participating in all kinds of activities for Read Across America Day. But if you're new to the party, it's not too late! If you're a teacher, librarian, or parent, visit the NEA Read Across America page for links to activity ideas, background on the day, resources and materials, and lots of other great ways to get involved. Teachers and librarians may also want to visit ReadWriteThink.org for a page full lesson plans, web links, and texts to guide your classroom activities.

And now, I gotta go. I've got two kiddos home from school on a snow day, and we can't wait to curl up on the couch with a warm blanket, some hot chocolate, and a mountainous stack of books...

It's the Economy, Stupid!

2009-02-28T17:26:00.005-05:00

I saw an MSN.com article about why the economy is making people fatter. Huh. I thought it was all those Twinkies...

Hmmm...

2009-02-24T20:28:00.006-05:00

Today is Fat Tuesday, with the eating of the calorie-bloated paczki and fasnachts and all the other fun foods and, erm, beverages. And the parties, and the parties, and the parties. Oh, and the parties...

Guess what February 25th is this year?

Let's Eat Right Day

and

Quiet Day

What the Heck is Paczki?

2009-02-23T15:15:00.015-05:00

These are paczki - traditional Polish doughnuts, traditionally served each year on Paczki Day. AKA Shrove Tuesday. AKA Fat Tuesday. AKA Mardi Gras. AKA for 2009: tomorrow!

Paczki (pronounced poonch-key) are no ordinary doughnuts. They're made with especially rich dough, then deep-fried, shaped into flattened spheres, over-filled with confiture or other sweet fillings, and topped with powdered sugar, icing, or bits of dried orange zest. And at 500 calories a pop, you may want to go easy on them, no matter how good they taste.

Traditionally, paczki were made in order to use up all the lard, eggs, sugar and fruit in the house, because those items are forbidden during Lent - which begins on Ash Wednesday, which is the day right after...Fat Tuesday.

In Hamtramck - an enclave in Detroit, Michigan - they hold an annual Paczki Day Parade, a paczki eating contest, and festive Polish dancing. In fact, Hamtramck is known as The Place to go for paczki, and has one of the longest-standing Fat Tuesday celebrations.

Now, for all you people that share my Pennsylvania Dutch roots, you may be getting a sense of déjà vu. And it would be entirely justified, since Fasnacht Day is the equivalent of the Polish Paczki Day. And no matter what you call them, they certainly are just as bad for you, and just as tasty, and just as fun!

If you can't find paczki in your town, make your own! I found some recipes here: Polish American Journal: Paczki Day. Just scroll down toward the bottom to find them.

Want to know more about Paczki Day? Check out these links:

Paczki - Wikipedia

Paczki Day - Paczki Day is Polish Mardi Gras

Paczki Day 2009 - Bennison's Cakes

Paczki Day - Pumpernick Bakery

Hamtramck a melting pot, but paczki still reign supreme - detnews.com

Take Your Tops Off: A Mardi Gras Alternative

City of Hamtramck Official Site: Paczki Day

City Secrets: Where to Find Chicago's Best Paczki for Fat Tuesday

Happy Paczki Day - Jenny Bakes

Book Review: Hoot, by Carl Hiaasen

2009-02-20T13:28:00.012-05:00

Soon they stopped marching, and the kid began to loosen the knots on Roy's wrists. "Don't turn around," he said.

"What's your name?" Roy asked.

"I don't have a name no more."

"Sure you do. Everybody's got a name."

The kid grunted. "I been called Mullet Fingers. And I been called worse."

"You don't really live out here, do you?"

"None a your business. What'f I do?"

"All by yourself? What about your family?" Roy asked.

The boy rapped him lightly on the back of the head. "You ask too many nosey questions."

Overview:

Roy Eberhardt is used to being the new kid, due to his dad's frequent transfers for work. He is also used to facing bullies, and so he has learned to deal. But being the new kid at Trace Middle School has him dealing with more than just Dana Matherson, school bully. He's also tangled up with a host of other odd characters: Beatrice the Bear - a fierce girl who plays on the girls' soccer team, Garrett - the king of fake farts, a bald foreman named Curly, a runaway boy who sometimes goes by the name Mullet Fingers, a corporate big-wig named Chuck Muckle, and a pretty young starlet with a startling voice. And all of them are tangled up with endangered owls, a vacant lot, Mother Paula's All-American Pancake House, the police, politicians, and parents with questionable behavior.

For Teachers and Librarians:

Hoot is a real hoot - with a few serious messages craftily weaved throughout. It is sarcastic, funny, action-packed, mysterious, and full of memorable characters. Those traits alone are enough to lure even your most reluctant readers into the book and hold their attention all the way through. But you will also have quite a large number of ways to use this book in your classroom. It touches on corrupt politics and business practices, conservation, animal activism, protected species vs. development, bullies - and ways to outsmart them, friendship, being the "new kid," right vs. wrong - and how to decide which is which... The great thing is, all of these are totally kid-centered, so your students will easily be able to relate, and to discuss, and to apply what they learn to their own lives and communities.

For Parents, Grandparents and Caregivers:

Hoot is one of those books that appeals to such a wide number of groups, you will love it as much as your kids will. If your kids are dealing with bullies, this is a great example of how to deal with them and survive with your dignity and self-respect firmly intact. If your kids are into environmentalism, this is a strong example of just how powerful kids can be at making a major impact in their communities. If your kids are going through being the new kid, for the first time or the fiftieth time, they will identify with how Roy handles the same situation. If your kids know of someone at school who acts a little strangely, perhaps this book will prompt them to show some compassion - since we never truly know what our friends deal with at home. And if your kids and you are going through a rough patch, maybe this book will help both of you see each other as possible allies, rather than adversaries. But most of all, it's a great story: funny, mysterious, and full of action.

For the Kids:

Reading Hoot is something you don't want to pass up: it's funny, sarcastic, full of action and mystery, and who can turn down a book that has a bald guy in it...named Curly? Roy Eberhardt is new to Trace Middle School, and it's not his first time being "the new kid." But, being the new kid more than once has taught him a few things about how to deal with everything from bullies to making new friends. When Roy looks out the bus window and sees a shoeless boy running like the wind - away from the school bus - he can't forget it, and sets out to find him. Roy has no idea what this one bit of curiosity is going to drag him into, but once he's there, he learns a lot about himself, and about other kids, and about the adults around him, and about the power kids can have when they work for something they care about.

For Everyone Else:

Hoot should be on everyone's Must Read list. It's smart, and sarcastic, and mysterious, and it gives you a lot to root for: a boy finding his place in a new school, a tiny endangered owl species struggling to survive, another boy shunned by his own mother but embraced by others, and kids banding together to stand for what is right. Don't miss it.

Wrapping Up:

If you're looking for a well-written book that will make you laugh, and get angry, and empathize, and cheer, then Hoot is the book you need to go out and find. Read it, and be immensely satisfied.

Title: Hoot

Author: Carl Hiaasen

Pages: 304

Reading Level: 10 and up

Publisher and Date: Random House Children's Books, 2004

Edition: 1st Paperback

Language: English

Published In: United States

Price: $8.95

ISBN-10: 0375829164

ISBN-13: 978-0375829161

Author Spotlight: Carl Hiaasen

2009-02-20T11:55:00.010-05:00

Columnist, journalist and novelist Carl Hiaasen uses news headlines and stories, a healthy dose of satire, and his own passion for environmentalism to fuel his writing for both children and adults.

He dreamed of being a journalist from a very young age, and has been writing ever since his father gave him the typewriter he requested at the age of six. Back then, he wrote about neighborhood kickball and softball games. In high school, he banged out a newsletter for his friends, called it "More Trash," and filled it with rants and opinion pieces sparked from, for example, being on the receiving end of the dreaded parental "No."

While writing "More Trash," Hiaasen learned to use humor and satire to get his point across, finding that those were tools that drew in a bigger audience. He has been using those tools in his writing ever since. In a Los Angeles Times interview with reporter Margaret Wappler, he said:

"You've got to be funny sometimes. All my humor comes from anger. Satire is terrific therapy. Making people laugh is a joy, but making them think about something serious is the ultimate reward."

Hiaasen entered Emory College in 1970, then transferred to the University of Florida two years later, graduating in 1974 with a degree in journalism. He then spent two years working for Cocoa Today, out of Cocoa, Florida, before accepting a position with the Miami Herald as a general assignment reporter at age 23. From there, Hiaasen moved on to that paper's weekly magazine, and then to its investigations team in 1979. He switched again in 1985 - still with the Herald - to write a regular column on Sundays in the opinion and editorial section, and continues to do so.

It wasn't until the early 1980's that Hiaasen began writing novels for adults, together with the late William D. Montalbano. His first solo effort, Tourist Season, came out in 1986, and he went on to publish nine others. His first young adult novel was Hoot (2002) - a Newbery Honor winner, followed by Flush (2005), and the recently released Scat (2009). His novels are typically classified as "environmental thrillers" and housed in bookstores' mystery sections.

Carl Hiaasen was born (March 12, 1953) and raised in Plantation, Florida - the first of four children. He now lives in the Florida Keys with his family.

Sources:

Carl Hiaasen Official Site - Biography

Carl Hiaasen - Wikipedia

January Interview With Carl Hiaasen by Linda Richards

Carl Hiaasen - Goodreads.com

Carl Hiaasen - spiritus-temporis.com

Scholastic Visiting Author Series: Carl Hiaasen

Carl Hiaasen Biography - NotableBiographies.com

Carl Hiassen: "Delightfully Juvenile"

Hiaasen, Carl: Newspaper columnist, environmentalist, and author, Career, Sidelights, Selected writings

Reality Check

2009-02-19T12:05:00.005-05:00

As I sat with a book in my favorite reading spot the other day, Handsome Boy bopped noisily into the room. I looked up to find him inches from the couch, gazing intently at me. His usual impish grin was replaced by lips set in a firm, thin line.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?"

"There's something wrong with that song - Row, Row, Row Your Boat."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "Life. Is not. A dream." Then, leaning in until our noses were practically touching, he intoned, "It's real."

He stared at me for a few seconds more, eyes wide and head nodding gravely. Then he turned and bopped back out of the room.