blast from my past

Dug up some long-neglected web pages that haven't been updated in years, and created several new Squidoo pages:

http://www.squidoo.com/modelhorse
http://www.squidoo.com/modelhorsecollecting
http://www.squidoo.com/modelhorseshowing
http://www.squidoo.com/modelhorsecustomizing
http://www.squidoo.com/modelhorseetching

free money?

Has anyone tried this site?



I'm willing to give it a shot.
I'll let you know how it goes.

I'm also trying these sites as well:

YourFreeFlatscreen ~ 0/5 for $250

YourNintendoWii4Free ~ 0/5 for $250

YouriPodTouch4free ~ 0/7 for $350

YourPS34free ~ 0/10 for $425

360elite4free ~ 0/10 for $480

50.expressbux ~ 0/1 for $50

nocc.4freestore ~ 0/1 for gift

x/y = x is how many referrals I have, y is how many I need for the prize

Don't sign up for anything you're not comfortable with.

defective sticky notes

THE STORY I AM ABOUT TO TELL YOU IS TRUE.

I love my job. I like my co-workers. I hate my 45 minute commute. I enjoy the work that I do. I'm not going to mention any names, to protect the innocent, the guilty, and my wonderful job.

This morning I was handed a small slip of yellow paper with a name and email address on it. The verbal directions were to email a document to this person. Being a very easy to amuse person, I was instantly mesmerized by the note. I quickly realized it was a sticky note, and this is relevant because the writing was on the adhesive side of the paper. Not just below the glue, but right across it. I point this out to the note-giver, because I'm helpful like that. Really.

Said writer-of-note remarked, yeah, thought it was weird that the sticky side of the paper was on top. Maybe ... the pad ... was ... defective?

This person is the boss of me. It would be in bad taste for me to double over laughing. Holding it in makes it very hard to breathe. But I am strong. I remark, tactfully—remembering that I love my job—perhaps ... the pad ... is ... upside-down?

Hmmm. Note-maker ponders this and returns to office to check. Occupants of adjacent cubicles fold and begin chuckling. I'm about to cry. Hyperventilate.

Author-of-note returns with very normal, ordinary pad of small yellow sticky notes. Shows me how the "top" sheet is sticky at the top. Gently, gently, I audibly observe that the "bottom" of the pad, might be ... actually ... the top. Pen-master turns the pad over. Yeah, that makes sense. Leaves room.

Neighboring groundhogs are in stitches. I can barely breathe. I am filled with joy. Mirth, even. My job here is complete. Can I have the afternoon off?

lolcat is teh aw3som3

over 200 free digital photo prints

I migrated my FREE PRINTS web page from freelief.com to the Squidoo site. Hope that helps pick up some new leads.

free prints on Squidoo

gaited horses ~ any owners out there?

I'm in the process of updating my gaited horses "lens" at Squidoo, and looking for people who might want to submit photos, quotes or other information for publication.

Check it out, and thanks!

Isis > Wonder Woman

Isis > Catwoman

Isis > Invisible Woman

Isis > Supergirl

Isis > you

http://www.squidoo.com/isishero

read much?

I've started to enjoy books again in my old age. Let's see if this here code works:



Well, if'n it don't ...

my catalog

Did I ever tell you?

There are days when if someone tells you, "God won't give you more than you can handle," it is perfectly acceptable to punch that person dead in the face.

If what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, I should be able to stop the world from spinning with just a stern "mom look."

I'm so proud of my kids, I could just about pee myself.

I never wanted to have kids, because of the screwed up world they'd have to grow up in ... and *that* was just the 80's!! Things would appear far more screwed up now than they were ... or I'm just more aware of it as a parent than I was as a teen.

When the world seems to be holding you under water, a hug and a kiss from a child can make it all better ... at least for a moment ... catch your breath, and keep on kicking.

Rats are way cuter up close than you might think.

Captain Jack Sparrow has got to be the best bloody pirate I've ever seen. I remember Depp from "21 Jump Street" and now we have second-generation Johnny worshippers in the house. That's a little disturbing.

I still remember our 10th grade history teacher making us memorize "antidisestablishmentarianism" but I don't recall his name.

I do remember Mr. Templin's name. He used to hum "Smoke on the Water" while we were doing quizzes. I don't really know why.

Is it really that odd to be able to bend the top part of your thumb back 90 degrees? (I mean, without using your other hand.) How is it that everyone can't do that? Why does it freak people out? I'm not double-jointed in any ways that are useful. I just have ... bendy thumbs.

I used to have pretty poor self-esteem as a teen, until I was informed that a jealous girlfriend of a boy I used to date, used to ask a friend all kinds of stuff about me, and was overheard saying in an exasperated tone, "She's perfect, except for her nose!" Ever since then I wanted to approach her and ask, "Just what's wrong with my nose? It's my dad's nose and I'm proud of it!" She changed my life for the better, and never even knew it. (Funny, she never mentioned my fivehead.)

What's a fivehead? Bigger than a forehead. Thank my dad for that one too.

I love my job. My ex used to say, "You get paid to play on the computer all day." Well, yeah. Pretty much. Check out this blog entry about graphic designers. It's all true.

growing up

(another myspace bulletin -- I write under stress *g*)

I don't remember exactly when it happened, but at some point in the last few years, I changed from the person who always tried to be someone that my dad would be proud of, to trying to be the kind of person I hope my children will turn out to be.

My dad's been gone since '92 but we still "talk" and I check in to make sure I'm on the right track. I know as recently as last summer I was still calling in favors, asking if he could put a good word in for me and chase off the rain at least long enough for my outdoor wedding.

Now that the kids are starting to turn into real people, I realize that the last place they will admit to looking for guidance on how to find their place in the world is their parents, but they are watching me all the same. Life as we know it has changed much in the past four months, and I can't just be the "silly" one anymore; I have to be the silly one AND the serious one. I have to be the firm one AND the flexible one. Oh Em Gee -- I have to set a good example.

I'm doing the best I can. As I told them, I can't guarantee that I won't make wrong choices, that seem good at the time. Only that I will learn from it, and always make the choice that is not necessarily the easy one or the popular one, but the choice that seems to be in their best interests.

Recently, on a message board aimed at parenting difficult children, there was a post about what we like best about our challenging kids. There was no lack of praise for even the most defiant, stubborn and impulsive child among them.

My children (all of them) are the best and most important thing I will ever be responsible for having a role in creating, raising and advising, loving and setting free. If you think about it, why else are we even here? We cannot live forever -- we raise the next generation and move on. We are shaping the future of the world, one life at a time.

One day, I hope my child looks back and realizes that they have tried to live a life I would be proud of. One day, I hope they try to be the people that they want their children to become. Only then, will I feel like I have fulfilled my place in this world.

Happy new year, kids!

A recent bulletin to my 3 hunnert and some myspace frens:

1. A bloodspattered emo myspace profile does NOT make you edgy or angsty. To anyone who has lived more than 19 years on this planet, it makes you look silly, at best. Getting "attention" is great. Being taken SERIOUSLY is way better. Saying fuck every third line doesn't make you more intense. Being articulate and confident makes you worth listening to. Bleeding is not a marketable talent. Get a useful hobby.


2. I don't care if you're bi. I'm frickin happy for you. But do NOT tell me you're bi, but you're not gay. If you're bi, you're gay, but simply less discriminating. If you sleep around, you're a slut, whether you're into chicks, dudes or sheep. Sluts are bad. Love is good. If you love a duck and the duck loves you, I'm happy for you both. I don't want to see pictures of you loving the duck any more than I want to see pictures of my parents making me. *gak*


3. You're whiter than Marilyn Manson. You're not from the hood, you're not even from a big city. Someone in your family probably owns cattle. For fucks' sake, stop trying to act gangsta. Violence isn't sexy. Calling women bitches and ho's is not bad ass. Getting a proper education and being successful is the shit. I highly recommend it. Unless you plan on bagging my groceries, go to college. Pay for it yourself instead of drinking away your parents' dreams.


4. Um, 13 year old girls are not "sexxiii" ... people who think that are called pedophiles, and get ass-raped daily in prison. Yes, we are aware you have hormones. You also have control, like when you use a fork or a spoon to eat dinner rather than ripping at raw meat with your hands. You should not be having sex if you're too young to VOTE "pro-life" or "pro-choice." I've got MANY friends with their own living proof that "birth control" is a sorry joke.


5. When your parents were your age, they may not have had MP3 players and internet porn and meth labs, but they dealt with being teased, not fitting in, being too short or too tall, too fat or too thin, not rich enough, not pretty enough, not athletic enough, and every other asinine high school piece of bullshit that you guys deal with -- and survived. They didn't wear the right clothes, their parents didn't drive the right cars. And they probably don't know the names of any of the jerks that messed with them, but still talk to the same FRIENDS who accepted them the way they were.



Teenagers really aren't that scary after all. The thought of them making the same mistakes as you did -- or worse -- now, that's frightening. Knowing that they think you're mean and strict and full of shit and don't know anything, because you try to help, that's frustrating. The knowledge that you can't keep them from learning things the hard way, that's just heartbreaking.


To all my teen "friends" with love ...
from the mom officially dubbed "Oh Mighty Evil One" ...
(an honor I cherish, because I care about what my kids are doing, where, and with whom, and I always will, and sometimes they'll hate me for it, and some day they'll understand)

Falling apart.

Sorry to leave my thousands of readers hanging like that. Surgery went really quite well. I was admitted Wednesday, Nov. 28 and went home after lunch Friday, Nov. 30. And by home I mean, we went Christmas shopping at three stores, then went home. And I would have gotten online that night except for a WEE bit of swelling in my left leg.

The swelling is really not so bothersome as you'd think. What really aggravates is horrendous bruising that by all accounts seems to have come directly from the leg brace I was instructed to wear for 4 weeks. Or 3, or 2, or until I didn't feel like I needed it. Considering the worst of the bruising corresponded with the steel inserts of the brace, I ditched it in less than a week.



Pretty awesome, huh? Most of it is gone now. This was one week after surgery. Oh yeah, they almost postponed surgery because my blood pressure that morning was 80 over 50. I had to convince them that is normal, for me.

The vertigo isn't so bad as it was right before surgery. It is the worst when I lie down and close my eyes, or when I am in the shower and tilt my head back with my eyes closed. Then the room spins and I feel a bit tipsy. So far, so good, on not falling and shattering my tibia into bone splinters. My blood work doesn't show anything abnormal ... blood sugar is good, cholesterol numbers are great, estrogen is within normal range ...

The bad news is, my doctor also received findings from my surgeon, regarding the fluid in my knee, and of all things ridiculous and inconceivable, I have pseudogout. Basically, all my joints are going to go to hell, sooner or later. It isn't common in my age group; only about 6% of people in their 60's have it, and the percentage only increases to 25% for people in their 90's.

I don't like to feel sorry for myself, but the concept of [continuing] chronic joint pain does not excite me. I've learned to tolerate a great deal of it, especially over the past few months. The patello-femoral joint that was replaced had been bone-on-bone for some time, and basically shredded. How I was walking, much less riding horses, is beyond me. Must be my stubborn streak. I have no doubt THAT is genetic. I don't want to be needing a walker when I'm 40.

So I sort of just quit going out hunting because I got really ill and slept 12 hours a night plus napped most of the day, all through last week. It rather sucked, really. Apparently I have vertigo in addition to needing major reconstructive knee surgery. Having an unstable knee AND getting dizzy with no warning ... WOO HOO!! Looking forward to getting this over with. Surgery is Wednesday morning, so I'll be offline a bit, but as soon as I can hobble to my Mac, you know I'll be back.

Day 7

Another dreary wet day indoors. Had to have hubby drive me to the hospital for blood work, so no morning hunt. Planning to hunt all day tomorrow; we should get fresh snow tonight which should make for a good morning hunt. Will probably be too cold for my fingers to TXT a blog from the field, though.

Day 6

Stayed in today, as I had a midday appointment. Got home from store and to my surprise, met my babygirl at the door, all in camo and orange. Hubby was on his way to take her with him for the evening hunt. Made me so happy. Wish I could be a fly on the wall of that hunting blind! ;)

Day 5 txt msg

Day 5. Babygirl w me. So excited! Hope we see deers! She was up @ 3:30 AM & in camo & orange :)

Day 4 txt msg

Day 4. Cold, dry & still. New spot. Froze this AM, saw lots o birds. Nbrs BLAM BLAM all day. We no see deers.

Day 3 txt msg

Day 3. Super quiet. Hrs of no deer. Few shots 4 1st Sat. See tails, way out. Even sqrrls quiet. Hawk swoops ovr fld. NO DEERS.

Deer-thirty. Time 2 C deer. In tree. Hard 2 climb. Hub here. Coldr. Specs fog up. Woodpkr. No deers.

Pink sqrrl sighting! Too far 4 pic. Send me DEERS!