notinKansasanymore
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Posts posted by notinKansasanymore
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Tommytuttletutu,
this is the firkin's song.
(You have to imagine the Alvin-the-Chipmunk voice, and if you toss a little Elmer Fudd in there as well, it works nicely.)
My hoht can sing
when I paws to wemehmber,
A hohtache hew, is but a stepping stone
Awong a twaaaaail
Dat's woinding awwaaaaaaaaaays upwooooooooooohd,
Dis twubbod woooooooohd
Is not my finaw hooooooooooome.
Thus quoth the firkin. (You know that they all like a big finish; lots of vibwatto at the end.)
By the way, does anybody have a copy of Dan Keye's masterful reworking of Poe's "The Raven," about the firkin? The only line that I can quite remember is "Quoth the firkin: Give me more!" I think that the firkin's immediate objective was gorp.
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Yes, RockyRaccocoRaccoon, the firkin may fly, but tell him to get there at least two hours early if it's an international flight, and to leave his little firkin pocketknife in his car.
Where does the firkin need to go? I recognize that the little guy must be a bit timid, and somewhat afraid of flying, having not one, but three yellow stripes down his back . . ..
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I remember that they had us go out and teach trees on one of the coldest mornings of the year, at some ridiculously early hour. I thought that I was a real smarty-pants, by going to the Auditorium and teaching the ficus tree at stage right.
I even led the thing in song; it was more animated than some people I've known.
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You don't really need to read this; I just really needed to say it.
I am not dancing today, because I am so sad that we are in this STUPID war. I'm not trying to change this into the "politics" thread; I can't even stand to read those.
During the morning of 9/11, I was teaching a first year composition class at OU. I saw this coming, on that day. The students didn't understand why I was looking at them with tears in my eyes; I was seeing, in their faces, all of the boys with whom we went to high school, who went off to Vietnam all shiny and excited.
Maybe I'll be dancing again soon; I just hate this.
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So, this morning, I tried to teach the teenagers about memory pegs, using the grocery list in my head as an example; "one run," the horse was being ridden by a huge band-aid, etc.
They rolled their eyes, snuggled into their Nora-Jones-playing-earphones, and said, "Geeez, why don't you just WRITE IT DOWN?"
Why didn't we think of that in Top Floor Weirwille?
Peace be with you, once you are freed from the revolving door (what's stuck in the door? OH, it's a COW, because I need MILK), the bees, and the monkeys in the zoo who are even now throwing out bags of cat food.
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Ooooooooh. When you get in the spirit, Right Rev. Tuttle, you can preach the barn down right around our ears. I have left my wellstringed chair, yes I have, and have lifted my hands unto the blue-and-white-stripeytent, rejoicing in the spirit with you.
Yani, i.e., what he said goes for me, too.
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Oh, by the way - I don't mean to say anything weird about my sister; the plastic surgeon thing is just funny to me. She's a wonderful woman, great wife and mom. She's also a triathlete, and at the age of 45, specializes in blowing past much younger, extremely fit military types who shake their heads and ask "Where'd that lady come from? How'd she do that?"
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Let's see. Dark, mysterious fellow with mesmerizing eyes. Jeff Pappas and Rob Campanella have dark hair, nice eyes - who else? Bill Nay, from our first year . . .. Dick DeNenno has dark hair; okay, Yani, am I warm, at all?
As for the smiley girl with very large breasts, I think that I used to smile tolerably often, but as to that last part, nobody in my family has qualified for that in generations. Well, I take that back; my sister is in that category, but only thanks to a very proficient plastic surgeon . . ..
Hangover's gone, by the way; we just got back from the natural history museum (largest apatosaur in the world; you can go up in one elevator to look at its head, and the other to look at its belly). We looked at an old Oklahoma log cabin, and I got a 107-year-old splinter. That's not something that happens every day, I suppose.
If youse guys are ever in the Norman, Oklahoma area, I'll take you to see the wee beastie.
To continue: Davis Crowell, Gene Slavit . . .
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Fellowgardensitter, that sounds like a plan! Although I don't know how strong my drink will be; I am still such a lightweight that I am out of place in this college setting; last night, for instance, dancing around the kitchen, eating shark tacos that my better half tossed together (I can't cook like that), I had two drinks, spaced over about 4 hours; this morning, I have a hangover - it's really a joke around here.
Speaking of the garden, a few asparagus peeked through a couple of weeks ago, but they thought better of the idea, and are now not in evidence. It's time to sift compost, though, so my time in Ohio should come in handy. I'm building a rotary compost sifter, because rubbing that stuff through a screen, just reminds me too much of sitting through all those hours of teaching in Top Floor Weirwille . . .
For now, gotta toss some bran muffins in the oven, and drink water . . . they say that's the key.
The following is an official announcement:
this hangover will not in any way affect my propensity or ability to DANCE IN THE KITCHEN again. I just don't think I'll be twirling the four-year-old right now.
Fellowsitter, I will keep the garden chairs warmed up, and the iced tea cooled down. Come on over! Just call first, to make sure we're not out doing compost; you'd hate to get roped in to that sort of activity. It gets in your gloves, and such.
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Ahoy, there! I went on a wilderness walk for a time, and you folks went on for two pages!
It's Friday afternoon; with my laughter, I greet you, with my gin & tonic, I salute you.
Happy Tappas, everyone. Here, have a peanut, or a chip.
After the band finishes getting set up, there will be dancing.
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Some of you may not know that Yah Page was preceeded in death by his first wife. She was a Vietnamese woman, whom he met and married during the war. She could not pronounce "Gordon," and simply called him "Yah." She did not survive the war. The depth of his feelings for her may be surmised by the fact that he continued to go by this name for the rest of his life.
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So sorry to hear of Yah Page's passing; he was a wonderful, gentle man. The world is better off because he was in it.
Heartfelt sympathy to his family and loved ones. God bless you.
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So, the man says to the bartender, "Of coursh thish ish a shpecial parrot. He can balansh a whole jigger of drambuie on hish head and shing "Beautiful Ohio."
"No way," sneers the bartender, thinking that he's heard it all now, and that he really needs to quit this part-time job at Adolph's, anyway.
"Betcha ten bucksh," says the drunk.
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Jain, Jain, Jain.
What meanest thou to delete and break mine heart? For all are welcome at the keyboard of the Lord.
Let us break bread together at the keys . . .
Let us break bread together at the keys . . .
If we all come together, we can storm any weather;
Let us break bread together at the keys.
One of the reasons our thread is so long is that you don't have to be in the club to post.
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Praying for Cliff, praying for Mrs.Cliff.
Love, niKa
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If you happened to spend the "winter" quarter of our last year in residence at HQ, then you may remember Vince Finnegan standing one of our married 9th Corps sisters up at a meal in the BRC and ripping her apart. Of course, he picked someone who was so intrisically courteous and sweet that she was too shocked and horrified to even respond to him. As tears began to trail down her cheeks, he continued to rail on her for some minutes, and we all watched, too frightened to do anything but sit there.
If we'd said anything in her defense, we would have been next.
Today, we are older, wiser, less intimidated by bullies, not brainwashed, and would have run him out of town. Who among us would have even listened to another word he said about spiritual matters?
Of course, a predator would sense that, and wouldn't try that kind of attack in the first place.
StillInThe WayLurkers: are there still predators like this in the Way? Do people still get stood up at mealtimes and ripped up? If not, then that's at least an improvement on "the old days."
If so, then why are you still there?
OH, sorry. I forgot - this is the fun thread.
So, this guy walks into a bar with a parrot . . .
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Ah, Tom . . . couldn't find any tickets at the last minute, eh? Oh, well.
It was more like the bleating of Cougars . . . we had "a mighty truimph o'er the foes . . . we arose a victor from the flowery domain, and the trophy lives forever in our case to reign . . .
It's a Rose,
It's a Rose,
Hallejulah, It's A Rose.
Rockaroonie: Yes, a few of my former students were in the game; Antwone Savage, Quentin Griffin, and some who are on the roster but didn't play. One of the ladies who sat next to us has a son who was in my husband's class this past semester.
Last year, I even had a graduating senior on the team whom I'd taught in Honors English, back when he was in 8th grade! That was fun.
I didn't exactly teach them everything that they know, but Griffin sure taught me a few things about good character in collegiate athletes. That kid is the real deal. He was only 11 yards shy of the all-time OU record for single-season rushing, and our guys did a "gimme" to Washington for Wazzuu's 2nd touchdown so that Q could get back in the game and get his 11 yards. He wouldn't go in, though, simply for a record. He put on his Rosebowl champs ballcap backwards, stood on the sideline, and let the younger player have the downs. This is a kid who doesn't need record books to know who he is.
Lordy, I just love meeting kids like that. It makes me feel good about the world.
9th Corps
in Corps
Posted
You guys cwack me up.