...Never mind, I'll sing solo!
My sweet friend Susan, of Penless Thoughts, tagged me to sing to you.
'Cause it's a MeMe.
Here are the rules of the game:
1. Link to the person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. List 6 random facts about yourself.
4. Tag 6 people at the end of your post.
5. Let each person know they have been tagged by commenting on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know the entry is posted on your blog.
Random Fact #1: Well now, the very first random fact I'll share with you is that Groovy always changes the rules - don't even ask me about Monopoly! - so I absolutely refuse to tag anyone. But if you choose to play, please DO let me know so I can go read all your fine and creative answers.
And before I go on, I'd like to say that I've suddenly had a spelling epiphany. So many people confuse the spellings of "lose" and "loose". I have no difficulty with these two (however, trust me when I tell you that there are other words I ALWAYS have to look up!), but just as I typed that last paragraph, I realized why those two words are such bugaboos.
"Choose" with 2 oohs in the center is pronounced just like "lose" which has only one. Ah, only in English, eh?
Random Fact #2: I am surrounded by helpful Grandmothers. No. really. I am.
You see, we don't watch tv and we rarely listen to the radio. Our news input consists of listening to National Public Radio about 15 minutes in the morning twice a week.
Consequently, both Grammy (Mulletman's mom who lives in an apartment attached to our house) and GrammaJ (Groovy's mom who lives nearby) have appointed themselves the task of keeping us up to date on ALL THE LATEST TERRIFYING NEWS. That's right, folks. They are so frightened that our ignorance will kill us that they cut articles out of the paper and tape news programs from the television. If the grandmothers had their way we'd never eat spinach, sliced lemons, or tomatoes. We'd get rid of all our plastic and we'd all be taking 47 supplements twice a day. You can also be sure that all our tea would be green and our cranberries would be raw.
In fact, just today in the car on the way to buy fabulous deals at Marden's (Please, oh please make sure your sound is on!) our conversation went something like this:
GrammaJ: I purposely watched the weather this morning. I don't watch it every day, but this is a special week and I wanted to make sure we'd have good weather for ALL THE FUN with Funsocksgirl and the J-Man while they're here! Anyway, after a little rain today this eveing - there's a cold front coming through - it's supposed to be PERFECT ALL WEEK. So we can play that miniature golf and eat Gifford's ice cream on Friday and on Saturday I can babysit the girlies while you and the big kids (the big kids are 27 and almost 25) go to http://www.americanfolkfestival.com/ you're going to.
Speaking of ice cream, I'll need to get some when we go to Walmart.
Groovy: Didn't you just buy ice cream?
GrammaJ: Oh, that was a week ago!
Groovy: Um, that was this past Friday morning. That'd be 3 days ago...
GrammaJ: So, did you hear about that 12 year-old boy in Maine who got his arm ripped off by an alligator?
Groovy: Huh? In Maine?
GrammaJ: Oh yes. I saw it just this morning on Channel 5. That's the LOCAL station, you know. This boy went swimming in a supposedly "safe" lake and this gigantic alligator just ripped his arm right off. It was awful!
Groovy: In Maine? Are you SURE? There are no gators in Maine, Mom.
GrammaJ: I told you, it was right there on the news! I wanted to make sure you knew because sometimes you and Mulletman (why doesn't that man get a haircut?) and the girls go swimming or canoing. I just want you to be VERY CAREFUL when you do. I mean, how would you feel if an alligator chewed up one of your babies?
Anyhoo, the story sounded a wee bit fishy (reptilian?) to me because folks, THERE ARE NO ALLIGATORS IN MAINE. But hey, my mother saw it on the news, so it must be true. Maybe someone kept one as a pet and when it got too big they let it loose (or 'lose', take your pick). It's possible. Though it would only be able to live one summer up here before it crossed over to wherever gators cross over to.
Needless to say, being the scholar that I am, I immediately came home and looked the incident up. This is the ONLY story I could find that came close...and now I've got some news for GrammaJ; Lousiana is a fer piece from Maine!
Random Fact #3: I am more nervous about getting skin cancer than getting breast cancer. This is because I have more freckles and moles than breasts.
Random Fact #4: No matter how hard I try, I absolutely CANNOT keep any geographical details in my head. I cannot remember routes we have taken, where most states are located (except in a vague general direction sort of way), or where most countries are located. I usually CAN tell you which continent they're on, but that's as close as I get.
Random Fact #5: I hate making the bed. I don't mean the kind of bedmaking one does first thing in the morning. That doesn't bother me at all. We always make our bed and insist that the girls do too. It just makes things feel so much cleaner and more orderly.
It's the redressing of the bed after washing the sheets. I can't even put my finger on why I despise it so, yet I ALWAYS put off resheeting the bed until it's bedtime and then I have to rush to do it because I procrastinated and then I'm even crankier than ever.
Thankfully, the girlies are almost big enough to handle fitted sheets and hospital corners, then I'll be back to only dreading one bed.
Random Fact #6: I know some of you know this, but many do not: I love rocks. I love, Love, LOVE rocks!
I do not know, nor do I care, what KIND of rocks they are. I am not a junior geologist. I just adore the look of them, the shape, the feel. It's like they have character and personality. And sometimes they darn near talk to me. Seriously!
I border every garden in my yard with rocks. I have a rock garden. See? There's definitely some crabgrass in the driveway (that's OK, I have rocks in the grassway too!), but most of the green you see in the rock garden are lipstick strawberries, violets, or random pansies.
I have baskets of smaller rocks in my house. When my friends or family travel to the far reaches of the universe I ask them to not buy me gifts. Instead, I request rocks. Currently I have rocks from Loch Ness, the Garden of Gethsemane, Russia, Haiti, maybe Mexico (FSG, did you bring me a rock from Mexico? Hmmmmmm?) and every campground the fam and I have stayed at. We rarely, if ever, return home from a trip without several rocks.
Here's the Loch Ness Rockster, compliments of Notcon4med.
Also, when I get to go away on any sort of spiritual retreat, I always ask the Lord to distill all the singing and teaching down to one area where He wants to work in my life. After he makes this clear to me, I search for the perfect rock. I bring the rock home and look up the subject in my Greek Interlinear Bible and I paint the date and the subject in Greek on the rock. I know one year the topic was "suffering" and another it was "trusting".
Of course, a year or two later I can't remember what the Greek says, but I still think it's a cool idea!
So there ya go, some Groovy randomness to think about over the course of the next coupla days. I may not post for a few because Funsocksgirl and the J-Man will be here tomorrow eveing. They're celebrating their 2nd anniversary tomorrow! And coming to visit US! On their anniversary!
No, they're not really weird (well, they ARE, but not because they're coming to visit family on their anniversary). See, the folks - Gramps and Grammy are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary this Thursday and the grandkids wanted to be here to help congratulate them.
Now I'm off to clean and to wrap surprises and make a romantic cake.
I promise lots of stories once it's all over!