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Last Friday the 7 year old got “lost” while visiting my brother. I say “lost” because it was for such a brief period of time that she was the only one that knew she was lost. Does that even count?  To her, it does, I’m sure.  Poor baby had run out of my brother’s backyard to chase the dog [who was chasing a squirrel, who swallowed a cat to catch the bird…oh, wait…] wound up on the street behind Uncle Mikey’s house and got disoriented. So she approached a safe-looking lady and said “My name is Katie and I am visiting my uncle who lives near here but now I am lost. Can you help me find my Mommy?” So the nice lady called the police…  and 30 seconds later, three of us come flying out of the yard, shouting for kid and dog…and see them both 50 yards up the street… The neighbor explained what happened (minus the phoning the police part) and we said thank you, thank you, and started to walk home. So I was pretty surprised when a police car pulled up next to me to see if everything was ok. I said it was. You’ll be happy to know he didn’t just take my word for it, he asked my sister-in-law — who was standing next to me — if the child I was carrying really belonged to me. Anyway — crisis averted…yay for my nephew who came inside to tell us that Miss Dog had escaped and Miss Thing had run after her. Yay for Miss Thing for asking a safe-looking grown up for help. Yay for Miss Dog for coming back when she was called. Yay for Miss Thing for figuring out that next time she should get a grownup before chasing after Miss Dog [Because KC has tags with our phone number on it…but I don’t have any tags, right, Mommy?”]

It made a good story to share with DH later that night when we called to say goodnight (he had to work and couldn’t leave The ‘Shire.)   A few hours later I got an email from DH… it seems that he, too, is vying for the title of Poet Laureate of the family. He said:

Just in case our young Poet hasn’t yet begun to reflect on another weekend adventure…

Running running into the street
after the dog with fleet feet
Turn around and house is gone
Mommy?

It says a lot about my family that my brother, SIL and I all burst out laughing while my mom was appropriately horrified and said “That’s SICK.”

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Dear Santa,

Please please please please can I have Harry Potter 4? I’m his biggest fan. I know what his name is! It’s Daniel. Like my dad. If no one sees you my little cousin Jake will cry, because everybody likes Santa. Everyone would have a sad Christmas. Some people are already decorated, like a lot of people. Like all the people in the world. Everybody already has their Christmas trees. No one will set a fire in the fireplace on Christmas because if you come down then you’d get your bottom burnt.

Can you deliver every present to every child every Christmas? What do you elves look like? Do your reindeer need coats? How many? Can you send me a picture of them?

Do you deliver presents to animals if they’ve been good? Do you drop fish upon the lakes so bigger fish can eat them? How pretty is the moon when you fly by it? Would you send me a picture? Can you eat it? Is it really cheese or is it just moon with a lot of water in it? I would like to know.

Thank you Santa. I was just wondering those questions.

Love, Katie

ps:  Just in case you were wondering, my family members are Jackie, Daniel, ANYA.

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I went to my fair share of keggers in college (ok, more than my fair share) and the people who threw the parties sometimes did some fairly stupid things…such as videotaping their hazing rituals and leaving the tapes in the fraternity’s party room after they left for the summer…the campus cleaning crew found them and the fraternity was kicked off campus.   Another fraternity hired a stripper for their graduating seniors, paid them with a House check…which bounced. She complained (or filed suit, I can’t remember which) and the fraternity got kicked off campus.

But this is my favorite yet… as my friend Deb said, can you say Darwin Awards?  I’m thinking the parents of these three college students aren’t getting their money’s worth…

Note to my kids — when you go to college, if you throw or attend a college beer-blast, make sure you’re not within earshot of the town police station, please.

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The recent Facebook post reminded me of another Facebook phenomenon…mutual friends. Facebook tells you when you have a friend in common with another friend. I’m friends with Wreke, Silver Wendy (so named by Anya) is friends with Wreke; Wendy and I have a mutual friend. So do Wreke and I.

Most of the time, I know how the Mutual Friend came to be. Wreke met Silver Wendy through me, for example. But there have been a few times when different parts of my life have bumped into each other without me realizing it — when I have Mutual Friends and don’t know it, or discover it accidentally and can’t figure out why two people from different parts oof my life know each other.

The first time it happened, Carmen (a cow-orker) asked me about Kelly (the wife of a guy I went to school with.) Turns out they are friends in their own right — I think they met because both are active in their national sorority. There there’s Terry, (a cow-orker) and Alison (we sang in the sang a cappella group) — turns out they sang together at Cornell.

A variation on the theme is even weirder…when two people I know from totally different parts of my life are not friends with each other, but have a friend (not me) in common. I don’t think there is an official Facebook term for this – I’m going to call it Friend Connection. I think FC is harder to discover. With plain-vanilla mututal friends, Facebook points it out to you. Alison knew Terry was my friend because when Alison and I became friend, Facebook told her “hey, you and Jackie have a friend in common.”  With FC, you sort of discover it by accident.

My most recent FCs… Deb (friend from high school) and Josh (friend from college) have a Mutual Friend named Cap’n Jon Connors. I only figured this out when Cap’n Jon “liked” one of Josh’s post, and, thinking that Jon Connors was actually someone I knew, clicked through to his profile. There I saw he was friends with my old high school pal Deb. I wonder why they know the same person.

Another one:  Kristin, the kid I babysat for since she was born, had a baby recently. One of the people who congratulated her has such an unusual last name, I just knew she had to be related to a girl I sang with in college. Sure enough, my college acquaintence and Kristin’s friend are sisters.

I guess there are more links to Kevin Bacon than we realize.

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Love that song. Except when it’s my theme song of the day… as it was yesterday.

Adamant about eating breakfast with the girls…who cares that I will get to work at 9:45am… it’s worth it…

Just before I leave I get sucked into a debate about what to do about insulating the unfinished space in Muppet’s room…knock through the wall and expand her room, knock through part of the wall and make built-in cubbies, knock through the wall in a way that allows for a hide-a-bed… ok, we will talk about this when I get home…now I am really late…

Pull out of garage while Husband is pulling out of his side of the garage (in MY car — long story) and, in an attempt to close the garage door on my side, mix up the buttons and close HIS door…unfortunately, while he is backing the car out… Buh-bye, radio antenna… can’t wait to see how much that will cost to fix.

oops.

Drive away totally distracted…and get pulled over in a speed trap exactly 1.5 miles from my house. Thank you, Officer, for having a heart and a) not laughing at me when I told you about the garage door debacle and b) not even giving me a warning.

All’s well that ends well?

Sigh.

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No idea how I missed this the first time around but I found it today when Spring cleaning in K’s room…it loses something in translation without the illustrations…I’ll try and scan those in later.

That’s a reindeer. When the wind blowed there was a rainstorm in that magical forest.

There was a long long time before the rainstorm came. All it had was a blustering wind.

This is the orange.

This is the lemon. And then the girl, with her brother, found alemon. Her brother’s name is Davis. And my name was Katie.

This is his sled. And then before long the rainstorm pushed over leaving behind the lucky cloud.

That’s the animal. The person who rides it is Santa.

That’s Santa’s sled. There’s a seat right there. And a huge blustering rainstorm.

And then the wind blew and me and my brother ran away. And they told their mom and dad about their adventure.

And the wind came to run the rainstorm away. And along came the owl to sign the blustering wind.

And then Rachel came along and said “meet me tomorrow at the park” and the owl said “ok.” And then along came Lewisburg.

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 I’m not sure if I am impressed or slightly disturbed — or both —  with K-child’s latest tome. She brought it home from preschool recently.

The Fire Ball — by K-child.

Sometimes people see hawks around the world. They are very interesting animals. They like to eat different foods like worms and birdfeed. And mice and rats.

The comets can come from space. Meteors come from many different worlds. Like Obama.

Like the One-Eyed Purple Eater. They can be three feet tall.

The tooth has many other ingredients than humans. Humans have two teeth. And very munchable teeth.

The meteor is about three feet tall. The big launcher is about two and a half feet tall.

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And because I can’t get it to embed here, you have to do it hte old fashioned way and click the link. Go ahead – it’s worth it.

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Another “dictation” that came home from school the other day…

Mama,

I don’t like the green coat. I don’t like it because it’s really, really puffy. I  just can’t get around with it at school. It’s really difficult to do. I really, really, really don’t like my coat.

K.

p.s.: I can only move my hands a little in my gloves.

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Driving home tonight I heard a radio story about the GOP landslide in Tennessee. John McCain won 70 percent of the vote; many other Republicans topped 60 percent. Tennessee also booted out an incumbent Democratic state legislator and Tennessee’s House is under GOP control for the first time in 140 years.

Why is that?

Well — according to Tony Shipley, the Republican victor in that House race,

These people are solid, hard-working, apple-pie-type Americans. I have fond memories of chasing greased pigs here, so there’s a long tradition of Americana here — strong Christian values here amongst these people.

Americana = Greased pigs? I thought Americana was things like baseball, Norman Rockwell, and Mickey Mouse. You know — things ALL Americans can call their own and associate with. Greased Pigs? Come on. If he had said cow tipping, I might have bought it.

A University of Tennessee policital science professor added,

Appalachia is overwhelmingly white, overwhelmingly rural and of a lower socioeconomic status. It’s an area of the country that’s overwhelmingly religious, and all of those factors played into Obama’s weakness here.

So to sum up —  in Tennessee, poor, uneducated, bible-beating, red-necky, pig-chasing white people vote Republican.

And we wonder why the economy is in trouble?

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