Cookies, Chickens, Frogs & More

Sometimes I get a kick out of unusual observances and holidays. 

            This past Sunday was Mother’s Day, of course, and International Nurses Day, but also Limerick Day, National Nutty Fudge Day, National Doodle Day, Hug Your Cat Day and Odometer Day.

            Monday was Frog-Jumping Day; Tuesday was National Chicken Dance Day.  You DID dance in celebration, didn’t you?

 

           Among the observances on Wednesday were Straw Hat Day, Turn Beauty Inside Out Day, Nylon Stockings Day and one of my favorites, National Chocolate Chip Day.  It’s too hot to commemorate Nylon Stockings Day (for those of you who still wear such things) but it’s never too hot for chocolate chips. 

            And then there’s this: The Headless Chicken Day is always the third weekend in May.  (Yep, it’s called “day” even though it’s two days.) 

            According to the sponsoring organization’s web site, the event is based on a true story about a Wyandotte rooster named Mike.  On September 10, 1945,  Leon Olsen, a Fruita, Colorado, farmer, used an axe to make Mike headless so that the rooster would be his family’s dinner, but rooster Mike “continued trying to peck for food.” 

            The festival celebrates Mike’s example, noting that “you can continue to lead a normal life, even after you have lost your mind.”

            If those folks in Fruita ever make the festival a week-long affair, they can celebrate The Headless Chicken Day along with National Chicken Dance Day.  Quite an observance, wouldn’t you say?   

 

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"Special" Election Doesn't Quite Describe It!

Photo from The State newspaper

   


         This is gonna upset some of my Republican friends, but that’s certainly not the intent.

            It’s like this: for several years, I’ve been saying I’m tired of so much partisan politics and so much partisan bickering.  And I really, really am. 

            That’s the same thing I’ve heard loads of other folks fussing about also.  They’re tired of everything in Washington having to do with party lines.  They’re tired of partisanship in our state legislature.  They want what’s good for the people to be put before what’s good for one party or the other.

            But, have we looked at our own back doors or front doors or wherever we generally look?  Don’t we put party before consideration of individual candidates when we vote straight party tickets?

            And, now, here we are faced with a special election (May 7th) in our own first congressional district – a race pitting former Governor Mark Sanford (he of Appalachian Trail fame) against Elizabeth Colbert Busch, businesswoman and sister of comedian Stephen Colbert. 

            Guess what we’re hearing and reading now from people who are sick and tired of partisan politics?  Here are a few of the comments:

            “No, I don’t like Sanford, but he’s the Republican, so that’s how I’ll vote.”

            “Forget a third-party candidate or a write-in, because that would just hand the election to the woman instead of a Republican.” 

            “I didn’t want Sanford to be the Republican nominee; he’s a scoundrel but I just can’t vote for a Democrat.” 

            “Yeah, Sanford was wrong to leave the state, to lie about his whereabouts, to not leave anyone in charge.  Yes, he was wrong to violate a court order.  But he’s the Republican.”

            Those are just samplings.  In the last two weeks, people who used to talk about character, honesty, integrity and such, are listing reasons they don’t like Sanford.  They are not questioning Colbert Busch’s character and integrity --- yet, they’ll likely vote against honesty, character and integrity because of party loyalty. 

            What’s right for the country, what’s right for the citizens – these take precedence over what’s right for a particular political party. 

            Just callin’ it like I see it, folks.

Yawn, Yawn, Yawn

             Yawn.

            This is somewhat like a test: see if you can read these few paragraphs without yawning, okay?

            Just the other night, Mom, the Duppster and I were in the car, heading home from an event.  All three of us were yawning. 

            So, we started talking about why people yawn and why it seems that yawns are contagious. 

            According to Andrew C. Gallup, PhD, "Brains are like computers... They operate most efficiently when cool, and physical adaptations have evolved to allow maximum cooling of the brain."

            Gallup reports that the brain warms up as people get tired and sleepy, but it’s not really boredom or sleepiness that causes yawning; it’s the need to cool the brain. 

            We inhale air when we yawn; our eardrums stretch; cooler air gets to our sinuses, ears, brains and more.  Our lungs are stretched. 

            All of this, of course, is just Gallup’s theory, but his theory is based on scientific research.

            Haven’t we all heard that yawning is contagious?  Is it? 

            Yes, it is.  According to various studies by several scientists, yawning, which is involuntary, is a part of centuries or eons of socialization.  It’s a way of relating to other people and has come down through the generations.

            So, next time someone yawns, don’t think the person is bored.  He’s just socializing with you!

            Now, there are two questions: 1) Did you read this without yawning? and 2) Can you keep your eyes open – totally open – when you yawn?

It's Been 12 Years . . .

            Today marks 12 years since Dad died. 

           Just the other night, several of us were sharing some funny stories about Dad, and we laughed ‘til we had tears running down our faces.

            We talked about the old green Studebaker Dad used to drive.  Well, actually, it wasn’t just green.  Dad had used a spray gun not far from the car to paint something white.  While he worked on whatever that creation was, white paint splattered onto the Studebaker, changing it from solid green to green with white dots all over.  He left it that way.

            And the outside of the Studebaker was the better part of the car. 

            Once the door to the car opened, one could see an emptiness – of sorts.  Dad had removed the back seat from the car.  What this meant was that we children had to either stand in the back or sit on the floor when we rode in that car.  Yes, this was before seatbelts and other modern conveniences. 

            We also had an old Pontiac convertible.  Or perhaps it was an Oldsmobile.  I just remember it was from the late 50s or very early 60s; it was tan; and it was l-0-n-g, like most cars of that era.  There was an expanse of tan between the back seat and the trunk. 

            And it was in the trunk that Dad had placed the old back seat that came out of the green-and-white Studebaker.  Dad had removed the cover or top of the trunk from the long convertible and put the Studebaker’s old bench seat in that empty cavity.  When we rode in that green seat way back in the trunk area, it was like traveling in a separate vehicle; we were that far away from the driver!

            Yep, as Mom said the other night, Dad is still keeping us laughing 12 years after his death.

It Takes Two!

            Last week, I had almost-five-year-old Harrison and just-turned-two-year-old Fisher in the back seat of the car, heading to our house after getting them from their other grandmother’s house. 

            I told the boys I had a little surprise for them at home.  Harrison quickly asked, “Is it one thing or two?”

            When I answered that there were two – one for him and one for Fisher -  Harrison said that was good, because when there’s only one thing, they fight. 

            So, I thought, this might be a great one of those “teachable moments.”  I explained how important it is to share, that sharing with others is good and that taking turns is what people need to learn to do. 

            That’s when Harrison spoke up again: “The thing about sharing is when me and Fisher share, Fisher doesn’t.”

            Yep, that could certainly be a problem – when two people share except that one of ‘em doesn’t. 

            We all know what that’s like, don’t we? 

Do Your Ears Hang Low????

            I remember it like it was yesterday. 

            And why shouldn’t I?  After all, Mom looked at me – and then just laughed.  And laughed and laughed.

            Finally, she looked at me, pointing near my face, and said, “One of your ears is lower than the other one.”  And then she started laughing again. 

            Through her chuckles, Mom told me to look in the mirror to see for myself.  So I did.

            Sure enough, once I looked, I could see that one ear was lower than the other.  The only way for them not to be uneven was to tilt my head, but I quickly decided I couldn’t go around the rest of my life with my head tilted.

            And then Mom asked, “When did that happen?”

            Well, gee, Mom; I just don’t know when that happened.  I mean I didn’t go to a doctor and ask to have one ear lowered or anything like that.  I guess I was just born this way.

            For decades, I didn’t know my ears weren’t even. 

            Now, as one might imagine, I can’t look in the mirror without noticing that one ear is lower than the other.  I’ve even changed the kind of earrings I wear so that the “ear difference” won’t be as noticeable. 

            At least that’s better than keeping my head tilted. 

            And I’ve quit singing that childhood song that starts “Do your ears hang low?”

"Foreigners" Eat Funny

       

            Eatin’ habits seem to vary based on what area of the country a person lives in, or at least grows up in.

            I think I’m somewhat of an expert on this subject since I’m married to a Yankee.  Oh, excuse me, a Yankee-transplanted-in-the-South-fellow, which is still pretty much a Yankee, if you ask me.  The Duppster hasn’t been in South Carolina quite long enough to learn how to eat southern.

            He finally tried that southern delicacy we call boiled peanuts.  Much to his credit, Dupp even had a second one.  It’s pretty safe to say, though, that he thinks he can live without ‘em.

            Now, I’ve never professed to be the best cook in the world, but, if I were, Dupp wouldn’t know it.  That’s because he adds ketchup/catsup to just about everything – without even tasting it first. 

            If I fix scrambled eggs and cheese, he adds ketchup.  If it’s scrambled eggs and salmon, he adds ketchup. 

            This past weekend I fixed a big ol’ pot of chicken bog.  First of all, chicken bog is rather peculiar to South Carolina; it’s not even a common meal anywhere else in the southeast, so it’s easy to figure that chicken bog is totally foreign to folks from above the Mason-Dixon line. 

            When this fine concoction of chicken, hot sausage, lots of onion, peppers, a bit of garlic, salt, bacon bits and a few other special additions was ready, what did Dupp do?  He pulled out something with a ketchup base and poured it all over the bog.

            Even as a ketchup-holic, there’s one thing he absolutely won’t put ketchup on, though: hot dogs.

            Go figure!