The first novel ever written on a typewriter...

...and other interesting trivia:

Every day more money is printed for Monopoly than the U.S. Treasury.
Men can read smaller print than women can; women can hear better.


Coca-Cola was originally green.


It is impossible to lick your elbow.


The State with the highest percentage of people who walk to work:
Alaska


The percentage of Africa that is wilderness: 28% (now get this...)
The percentage of North America that is wilderness: 38%
The cost of raising a medium-size dog to the age of eleven:

$ 16,400


The average number of people airborne over the U.S. in any given hour:

61,000


Intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair..

And finally:
The first novel ever written on a typewriter, Tom Sawyer.

Love in Special Christmas Boxes

Most people are stocking up on wrapping paper, ribbons and tape to wrap their Christmas gifts, but I head for a storage closet where I keep old boxes, beautiful Christmas boxes from my childhood.

My father's mother and sister loved to create beautiful packages, and each year our family looked forward to the day the big box from West Virginia arrived in the mail. All the package were decorated. One had a styrofoam Christmas tree heavily embedded with glitter and tiny ornaments. Another had a felt Christmas tree with tiny toys as decorations. There was a silver box with red felt candles. A gold box with miniature ornaments.

I remember being as excited about the boxes as I was about the gifts they held. One year the package from West Virginia still hadn't arrived on Christmas Eve day, which was a Sunday, and I was so disappointed. Then there was a phone call. It was a worker at the post office in our small town in Connecticut. A package had arrived, he said, and we could come to the post office to pick it up! Disappointment quickly turned to joy!

I have saved those boxes. They are getting worn and a bit tattered now. One got so frail that my mother's mother took the felt tree off the remnants of the box and put it on a stocking that she made for my then baby daughter. That is still my grown, married daughter's stocking to this day.

So think about the gifts you give, but also think about the boxes they come in. Maybe you can wrap your gifts in boxes that will hold a lifetime of love.

What Confucius didn't say...

...but probably should have:

Man who wants pretty nurse, must be patient.

Man who leaps off cliff jumps to conclusion.

Lady who goes camping must beware of evil intent.

Man who runs in front of car gets tired;

man who runs behind car gets exhausted.

Man who eats many prunes get good run for money.

War does not determine who is right,

it determines who is left.

 

Man who drives like hell is bound to get there.

Man who stands on toilet is high on pot.

Man who live in glass house should change clothes in basement.

Parenting: If it was going to be easy,

  ...it never would have started with something called labor!

Shouting to make your children obey is like using the horn to steer your car, and you get about the same results.

The smartest advice on raising children is to enjoy them while they are still on your side.

 Avenge yourself! Live long enough to be a problem to your children.

The best way to keep kids at home is to give it a loving atmosphere -- and hide the keys to the car.

Parents: People who bare infants, bore teenagers and board newlyweds.

The joy of motherhood: What a woman experiences when all the children are finally in bed.

Life's golden age is when the kids are too old to need babysitters and too young to borrow the family car.

Any child can tell you that the sole purpose of a middle name is so he can tell when he's really in trouble.

 Grandparents are similar to a piece of string -- handy to have around and easily wrapped around the fingers of grandchildren.

 There are three ways to get something done: Do it yourself, hire someone to do it, or forbid your children to do it.

 Adolescence is the age when children try to bring up their parents.

Cleaning your house while your kids are at home is like trying to shovel the driveway during a snowstorm.

Oh, to be only half as wonderful as my child thought I was when he was small, and half as stupid as my teenager now thinks I am.

 Adolescence is the age at which children stop asking questions because they know all the answers.

 An alarm clock is a device for awakening people who don't have small children. -- Toni Schultz

Clutter, clutter everywhere

I've been on a tear, clearing out clutter. But not all that clutters is a bad thing.

I've been cleaning out junk drawers, closets and storage boxes. I mean, just how many twist ties does a person need, anyway? I triage the junk. Keep, recycle, donate or throw away. Well, okay, I guess that would be quad-age, but who's counting? The fun thing is finding stuff I forgot was ever there, even if it is four rolls of duct tape. I guess I bought another one every time I couldn't find it in the junk drawer!

It's great to have drawers and closets and storage boxes that are once again roomy and organized.

But there's another kind of clutter—the kind that means something to me. Early Clutter pretty much describes my decorating style. Walking into my home is a little like walking into an antique store.

I have a lot of furniture, because I've kept so many family pieces. Just because it's a tight squeeze to fit something into a corner doesn't mean I'm going to get rid of one of the tables or dressers made by one of my great-grandfathers. Dishes from my great-grandmother top the buffet made by one of those great-grandfathers. Those dishes will stay, too.

And family photos. I have those all over the house, plus boxes more. Then there's spoon and oil lamp from my first-cousin once-removed, my mother's paperweight collection, the tea towels hand-stitched by my grandmother that I use as a valance over the kitchen window, and every hand-made-in-grade-school knick-knack my daughter every gave me.

This kind of clutter is not really clutter. It's a trove of treasures and memories that make me smile every time I look at them. The mementoes that "clutter" up my house trigger reminiscences of so many people and good times.

Some people like the spare look (and/or hate to dust!) and that's fine. But give me clutter!

For English Lovers...or not

I think a retired English teacher was bored. :D

 

1) The bandage was wound around the wound.

2) The farm was used to produce produce.

3) The dump was so full that it had to refuse more refuse.

4) We must polish the Polish furniture.

5) He could lead if he would get the lead out.

6) The soldier decided to desert his dessert in the desert.

7) Since there is no time like the present, he thought it was time to present the present.

8) A bass was painted on the head of the bass drum.

9) When shot at, the dove dove into the bushes.

10) I did not object to the object.

11) The insurance was invalid for the invalid.

12) There was a row among the oarsmen about how to row.

13) They were too close to the door to close it.

14) The buck does funny things when the does are present.

15) A seamstress and a sewer fell down into a sewer line.

16) To help with planting, the farmer taught his sow to sow.

17) The wind was too strong to wind the sail.

18) Upon seeing the tear in the painting I shed a tear..

19) I had to subject the subject to a series of tests.

20) How can I intimate this to my most intimate friend?

To Scuff or Not to Scuff

That is the question--regarding leaves.

It's autumn. The leaves are turning glorious shades of red, yellow, purple and gold. And those leaves are falling to the ground. That can be an annoyance to homeowner's who have to clean up those leaves. But it's a joy to walkers of all ages everywhere.

When I was a kid, I loved scuffing my way through leaves along the sidewalk on the way to and from school. Now, as an adult, I walk for pleasure, and what greater pleasure than to scuff one's way through colorful leaves. There's that wonderful shuffle-scuffle-crunchy sound. That unique dry-leaf smell. It's easy to feel like a kid again when scuffing one's way through leaves.

The only drawback to doing that as an adult is when you come to a neatly raked pile of leaves. To scuff or not to scuff. Someone spent a lot of time getting those leaves piled up into such alluring piles. The thought of a few kicks sending leaves scattering, colors flying is very tempting. It wouldn't even occur to the kid part of the brain that messing up someone's work wouldn't be the right thing to do. But it does occur to the adult part of the brain.

Ack! What to do? Indulge the kid side or respect the adult side? Maybe a little of both. Kick through just a few leaves on the edge of the pile. The thrill is still there, but no damage is done. Not really. Just few leaves scatter away.

That's okay. Right? :D