Which Is Cheaper: Beer Nuts or Deer Nuts?*
Mamacita says: Many years ago, I was teaching Public Speaking in a small farmland high school in southern Indiana. My students’ assignment was to give an informal “how-to” presentation, a demonstration of something they personally knew how to do.
That week, we all learned how to crochet a chain stitch, how to do macrame, how to carve a simple wooden toy, how to change a tire, how to juggle, how to put a belt on a broken vacuum cleaner, how to put a zipper in a skirt, how to make various color combinations of Easter egg dyes with food coloring and vinegar, and how to make homemade ice cream.
We also learned how to put a suppository up a cow’s butt, how to take a horse’s temperature with a rectal thermometer, and how to neuter a bull calf.
It was a really interesting week. I’ve never been able to look at a rubber band or a razor blade the same way since.
*Deer nuts are cheaper; they’re always under a buck.
** You didn’t hear it from me.
*** I’m a lady.
**** I never buy deer nuts. I do, however, sample them if they’re offered.
***** Shut up.
Happy New Year 2013: It’s Willie Waught Time Once Again
Mamacita says: The first day of 2013 finds us buried in snow. Looking out the window, the world looks exactly as the world should look on the first of January. It’s winter out there, and this year, it looks like winter.
I’ve been blogging for almost nine years now. I’ve made many new friends, some of whom I’ve met in real life. However, and I’ve said this before but that doesn’t prevent me from saying it again, my blogosphere friends I’ve never actually met are just as real to me as if they lived next door. Bloggers have redefined “real life.” There are many different levels of real life now, and they’re all real.
I hope all of you have a wonderful and positive New Year. I hope nothing bad happens to any of you, and I hope you are all safe, and healthy, and happy, every single day. You, and everybody who is precious to you.
This song always makes me tear up. Even back before I knew what it meant, something about it was both sad, and happy, and sentimental. Robert Burns could be like that.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, (Should old acquaintances be forgotten,)
And never brought to mind (And never remembered?)
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And the days of auld lang syne. (And days of long ago.)
And surely ye ‘ll be your pint’ stowp (And surely you will pay for your pint)
And surely I ‘ll be mine (And surely I’ll pay for mine)
And we ‘ll take a cup o’ kindness yet (We’ll drink a cup of kindness yet)
For auld lang syne (for the days of long ago.)
We twa hae run about the braes (We two have run around the hillsides)
And pou’d the gowans fine (and pulled the daisies fine)
But we ‘ve wander’d monie a weary fit (But we have wandered many a weary foot)
Sin’ auld lang syne. (Since the days of long ago.)
We twa hae paidl’d in the burn (We two have paddled in the stream)
Frae morning sun till dine (From noon ‘till dinner time)
But seas between us braid hae roar’d (But seas between us broad have roared)
Sin’ the days of auld lang syne (Since the days of long ago)
And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere (And there’s a hand, my trusty friend)
And gie ‘s a hand o’ thine (And give us a hand of yours)
And we ‘ll tak a right guid-willie waught (And we will take a goodwill draught)(that means, take a drink together)
For auld lang syne (For the days of long ago)
[CHORUS]For auld lang syne, my dear (For the days of long ago, my dear)
For auld lang syne (For the days of long ago)
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet (We’ll take a cup of kindness yet)
For auld lang syne (For the days of long ago.)
To answer the question of whether or not old acquaintances should ever be forgotten, the answer is, most emphatically, “NO.”
Not till the Alzheimer’s makes me say “Oh Baby” to the nursing home orderlies.
I love you, dear friends. And I wish you were all here so we could take a right guid willie waught together. I’m really up for some good willie waught.
All hail the duties and possibilities of the coming twelve months! ~Edward Payson Powell
Twas the Day After Christmas. . . .
Mamacita says: The problem with the day AFTER Christmas is the word “after” in regard to Christmas.
The best part of the season is the anticipation. The weeks and days building up to it, the lists and the baking and the songs and the packages appearing on the front porch as the UPS and FedEx drivers beep their horns and wave. . .the lights and the candles and the ornaments, each with its history. . . the smiles and the planning and the cards. . . all these and more, in preparation, climbing up and up to the summit which is the actual DAY, and then you’re there and after all the siblings and their families have gone back home, what then? The journey really is more important than the destination, isn’t it.
The actual Day, wonderful as it may be, is kind of sad, and the day after is a heartbreaker.
