Holding Pattern

The oldest Urchin had her blood work done Friday morning. They took five tubes. Five tubes. From my six year old. She was a trooper. She didn't cry or anything. She even watched the whole thing. I usually look away when I get it done. But she was a brave little toaster.

The cat scan is set for Tuesday afternoon. I've put a positive spin on that one. She seems excited. But she was excited for the head x-ray two months ago, yet when we walked in, she panicked. That was an experience. Forcing her to do these things, when I'd rather have root canal the Marathon Man way instead. (Is it safe?)

I was at a funeral today. It was for a distant relative, through marriage. But funerals take it out of me.

On a completely different note . . .

To my favorite author, whose latest book in her series featuring my favorite character that I'd been anticipating for months. The book which I purchased the day it came out for full price, no less. I give you the Otto DISAPPOINTED!



I have four words for you. Phoned in. and Irredeemable hero.

On a slightly related note - I adore the character of Otto. If I could somehow combine him with Molly Millions, a.k.a Sally Shears -



I would be in hog heaven.

Definite Derailment

When your child's doctor says things to you like, "Let's put her back on the steroid", six days after she went off it - that's one spike pulled up from the track. Then when she goes on to say, "Let's put her on this strong antibiotic for the next 21 days," -there goes another spike.

Then when the specialist orders things like blood work and a cat scan and discusses perhaps referring your six year old to a different specialist, that's it. Total Derailment.

Her long term illness (since September, if you've been following along) is still there, so the doctor is bumping up to a more aggressive treatment. So I may or may not be posting as regularly as before. Not that it has been all that regular recently. (See above for the reason why.)

So, yeah. I'm a little shaken, but hopeful. I'm in that wait-and-see holding pattern where the screaming panic in my gut is still locked down by logic and reason. I'm hoping it stays right there.

Counter Culture

From Ozzy to opera. From Let Me Hear You Scream to The Queen of the Night's second aria from Mozart's The Magic Flute. It's an extremely demanding piece. Considered to be one of the most difficult aria's to perform.

The Queen of the Night is charging her daughter with the duty of killing her rival or being disowned.



If you wnt to hear another amazing soprano piece, check this out.

Derailment

So, between a sick kiddo and crappy writer attitude I've gotten off track. We'll see if I launch a come-back any time soon.

Maybe I need a little Ozzy scream therapy.



Watch at your own risk. This video is definitely F.U.B.A.R.

Smiles All Around

Author and friend, Sue Gourley, nominated me for the You Make Me Smile Award.



Which was very nice of her, but half the time I think I make most people cringe.
coughzombiestinkbugscough

I'd like to pass this award on to two* other bloggers whose pages always make me smile.

Victoria Smith
and
Melissa Jordan

Go check them out and savor the snarky goodness that is their blogs.


*There are several other blogs that make me smile, but in case these guys wish to pass the award on, I want to leave them some choices.

Delinquent 'Possum Queen

I've been very derelict in my 'Possum Queen duties as of late. So I figured I'd give you a special behind the scenes glimpse of the pageant.

There were many qualified contestants. Vera, for instance. She was some tough competition.



Here was one of our distinguished judges.



The talent competition was fierce. Between the hog calling and tying, the bologna frying and the goat yodeling, it definitely wasn't a cake walk. In the end, Berthalynn and her toilet seat/horseshoe throwing skills took it. Don't be confused by the mustache, folks. She's a sweet gal and a helluva kisser.



I was honored to receive the coveted crown from last year's 'Possum Queen, Pattikins Parker.



My lawn bowling experience and familiarity with pink flamingos pushed me over the top, though. As stated before, it didn't hurt that I had all my own teeth. It was a bit of a struggle to get the crown to stay on along with my pointy hat, but I think the over all effect was rather enticing.

Since I'm supposed to talk more about the merits of 'possum meat, I'll save the pictures of the bathing suit competition for a later date.

With Groundhog Day here and taking all the glory right now, the Eatin' 'Possum Council would like me, their current County 'Possum Queen, to say a few words about the varied possum-bilites of the edible possum - "The Third White Meat, Sorta".

There's broiled 'possum and grilled 'possum and don't forget canned creamed 'possum on toast, affectionately referred to as CRaP on a shingle. There's also fried bologna and possum casserole - heavy on the mayo- with potato chip crust.

So in your Super Bowl and Ground Hog Day festivities, don't forget to have some 'possum lying round the table for the party! I'm sure your guests will thank you.

I Heart Crappy Books

Oh, yes I do! There are several in my ebook collection as well as my bound book collection. And yes, they are keepers!

I love books with plot holes, bad transitions, cardboard villains, poor punctuation, and adverbs galore. Books with dues ex machina endings. Books that suddenly shift genres in the middle. Books with heroes and heroines who are too stupid to live. Books where heroes would need tentacle parts and be made out of rubber to be able to actually pull off the sex scene.

Wanna know why?

Because it gives me hope. If these are getting published, then why not mine?

I'm not saying that I make all those blunders I listed above. There are some that I do. (I'll let you ponder which ones.) But whenever I get really down on my writing- like now- I pull out one of these little gems and read and laugh and fan that tiny ember of hope within my little writer's heart that someday, I too might get published.

Does It Make Me Pathetic If...

I still want Freezy Freakies?



I always wanted them when I was a kid, but never had them. I found a pair on ebay, but of course they only come in kids' sizes. *sigh*

So things around Chez Quinn have again gone into ludicrous speed. We may have even gone into plaid. I'm a little unsure at the moment. So suffice it to say, not a lot of writing is getting done. Yet for some reason I find the time to fantasize about Freezy Freakies. Go figure.

I've reached my monthly goal for my writing group, but not my weekly goal for my accountability partner. Check in is tomorrow with her. Hopefully she's not reading this and preparing to kick my ass.

So what crazy stuff is going on in your life? Anyone so out of control that they've reached plaid? (And you earn a Chez Quinn salute if you tell me the movie to which I'm alluding.)

The Chez Quinn salute looks a little like this:

Heard From The Back Seat

- Um, unicorn, I can't help you right now. My babies are trying to kill me.
- I have my duckies. (Imaginary ones) The green one bites, so watch out. His teeth are huge. The purple one just gives kisses.
- EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...Eeeeeeeeeeeeee....eeeuuuueeeeee
- No! I'm not talking to you! I'm Cinderella and I'm DEAD!!! So No Talking!


My mechanic once noted that no car seats could fit on the back of my motorcycle. I turned to him and replied sweetly, "That's kinda the point."

B. B. King Is A National Treasure

Chez Quinn started the year off right. Not only did The Man and I get to go on a date, but he took me to see B. B. King. It was an outstanding show.

We've seen B. B. King on two other occasions. The first time was a few days before 9/11 in Hershey, PA where he performed with Buddy Guy (who is AWESOME too) and John Hiatt. The second time was three and a half years ago when I was eight months pregnant. So technically, the youngest urchin has been to a B. B. King concert too. The sound table was obstructing our view of that one. But things turned out fantastic because we were moved to the third row where I could see every fret on Lucille.

The Man and I really wanted to see him again, since we knew he's getting up there in age. He announced at the concert that he is now 85 years old. And let me tell you, the man can still rock. The singing and guitar playing were brilliant. Plus he talks to the crowd quite a bit and is funny as hell.

His band has been with him for years. The "new guy" has only been with him for twenty years, so you know these are top notch musicians. They put on a great show too.

After his performance, Mr. King threw guitar picks to the crowd, posed for pictures from the stage and signed anything handed to him. For thirty minutes. The man is a class act. He's been an ambassador for the United states and has toured over ninety countries.

On the way home, talking about the show, I informed The Man that B. B. King was a national treasure. In Japan, people can become living national treasures when they are "keepers of intangible cultural properties." And I believe with all my heart that B. B. King is one of The United States' living national treasures.

So The Man and I started playing one of our favorite games. "Who/What Would Be On Your List?" And I figured I'd play this game with you. Who would be on your list of Living National Treasures of the United States of America?

I'd truly love to know!