(Original photo stolen from Sideshow Bruce on Flickr)
Okay, Orland, my home town, it's time to get in gear. We have two Very Important Internet Types coming to town in the next few days! Time to roll out the red carpets (as opposed to rolling up the sidewalks).
This is BOSSY, famed blogger/writer/entertainer of the blog iambossy.com:
BOSSY is on her (No) Book Tour, traveling 12,000 miles in six weeks to promote the book she forgot to write and meeting the people who believe she may be our first woman president. She'll be driving through Orland early Tuesday morning. Please wave as she goes by, and make her feel welcome and want to come back. She likes chickens -- maybe wave your chickens!
And this is Biz Stone, co-founder of Twitter and possibly inventer of electricity:
(Photo stolen from these guys)
Thanks to my good friend Gubby, who keeps me current, tells me (all the way from the Canada border) what's going on in my hometown, and asks pertinent blog questions beginning with "what the hell . . ." -- thanks to Gubby and the Enterprise-Record, I learned that Biz Stone will be IN ORLAND this coming weekend!
He's coming to be a guest speaker at the Farm Sanctuary here in Orland for their annual Country Hoe Down.
I have no idea what a Hoe Down is, either.
So Mr. Stone, I thought you might like some friendly guidance from a lifer local.
Things to do in Orland while you're visiting:
Enjoy your Hoe Down, Mr. Stone. Tweet about us lots.
Oh, and Mr. Stone? Can we expect your memoirs to be in 140 characters or less?
And Orlanders, please show Mr. Stone a good time. Don't let him trip on the sidewalks while you're rolling them up.
Thanks once again to Miss Marcy at The Glamorous Life Association for giving me something to post today. I swear I steal more from Marcy than I've ever thought of on my own, in four years of blogging.
"Making" this little video was really fun and very easy and I can see me wasting tons of time making more when I should be scrubbing toilets. First watch mine below, then go see Marcy's version, then make your own! (Thanks for the tip, Miss Glam.)
from these guys)
(Photo stolen from
(Photo stolen from these guys)
At breakfast yesterday morning . . .
Sparky: "Mama, when you were a kid, did they have swings?"Smedley, annoyed: "Sparky, she's not from, like, George Washington's time, sheesh."
Nice to know Smedley has my back. Did they have swings in George's day? I'll have to ask Chas.
(Original photo stolen from this site)
I have none.
I've never seen a ghost, or anything that wasn't easily explained in unexotic terms later. I had one very odd experience that tempted me to think "ghost," until my brother and I put our heads together and figured out that we had had a pretty close (broad daylight) call with a very brave would-be home invader -- while my brother was home.
So what am I, chopped liver? How come ghosts avoid me? I have had more than one person tell me that I have a Very Old Soul*, so wouldn't a ghost think I was sort of trustworthy and musty and dusty, and come pop in for tea and sympathy?
In fact, in 44 3/4 years I can identify only two events that made my hair stand up. Neither one of them is light or funny and I don't have it in me tonight to do either story justice, so I'll spare you.
What gives, ghosts? Maybe I don't watch enough "Medium."
(Original photo stolen from these guys)
*I know that's hard to believe, but I am actually smarter than I appear in this rearview mirror called the Internutz. And only half as silly as I appear. And much much MUCH older and mustier in the soul department.
It's pronounced [ˈɛɪjaˌfjatlaˌjœkʏtl̥]
I swear, journalists are taking more and more liberties with the news these days.This morning, as I was cleaning my ears, I heard an announcer on NPR reporting that airplanes all over Europe aren't being allowed to fly because a giant ass clown from Iceland was preventing it.
I commute 20 miles to work on roads with no shoulders, much less curbs, to park against. So stopping to get photos ranges from difficult to illegal to impossible, mostly. So what do I do? I take terrible photos from a moving car.
And once in a while, I do actually find a place to stop, like for this photo of dogwood trees in Chico.
I'm nothing if not a diligent photographer. Lazy-diligent, pretty much.
(None of these are my grandmother -- photo stolen from
this guy; originally printed in the Chicago Tribune,
Feb. 24, 1926)
It's been a very long time since we've had a Mormor story. I have exhausted all of her childhood stories, but I found one last story from high school. (If you are reading here for the first time, I need to explain that Mormor was my maternal grandmother who was born in 1905, and she wrote out all of her life stories for her family before she died. I am sharing these stories one at a time on this blog, and the first one is here.) The following story would have taken place around 1921.
* * * * *
(This IS my grandmother, Esther, in high school)
When I was going to Fortuna High School one of the spring events was girl's track. I did quite well in the sprints if I may say so, which may have led to one of my most embarrassing moments. It came about this way -- a junior named Delma C. ran the distance races. Now Delma was a rangy, long-legged person so she was quite successful in the quarter mile, etc.It seems the boys were talking one noon about Delma's ability and they guessed she would beat the runners in the others high schools since she could beat all the girls in our school. One guy disputed this, saying he knew a runner who could beat Delma all hollow, and would take bets to that effect. Anyway, he did a big business in money wagers though he wouldn't tell them who the person was.
Then Sid Myers (for it was he who did all the talking) came to me to ask me to run against Delma the next noon, saying it was all arranged. I turned him down flat saying he ought to know I wouldn't go out there and make a fool of myself. So he tried another tack by asking me if I was afraid she'd beat me so badly that I'd look silly. I answered that I knew I could outrun Delma if the race was long enough, which I guess was a mistake because Sid took off. Later I guessed he told Delma what I'd said for she answered that she could beat me in her race any day.
Sid finally told half the school that we were racing the next noon, and you wouldn't believe the peer pressure that tried to get me to say I'd run. Finally something Delma said made me say, "O.K. Sid, but never again. Do you understand?" By this time I was plenty annoyed with him.
So the next noon Delma and I were at the track in our running outfits. After Sid duly started us on the quarter mile race I found keeping even with Delma fairly easy. When we got to the last straightaway I guess I got my second wind so decided to really run. I came to the finish line way ahead of my opponent and Sid was about the only guy who was happy because he'd be collecting on his wagers.
Needless to say he didn't share with me and I went back to my sprints saying, "Never again."
She has to be small . . . but feisty. (Let's face it, Nora's blog is called "Tall Tales From a Short Chick.") Cute, funny, but tough as nails. A deep, husky laugh sounds about right -- wait! I know. Debra Winger will play you in the movie, Nora.
(Original photo of Eugenio Velez stolen from these guys)
If you're going to San Francicsoor maybe
Be sure to waer some floewrs in your hiar
If you're gonig to Sna Francicso
You're gonna mete some gentle poeple three
Strobe lihgts beam craete dreams
walls moev minds to do
on a wram San Francicso nihgt
old child yuong chlid feel alirght
on a wamr Sna Farncicso night
This is Smedley with her cousin Brady.
All of the little kids in our family LOVE their older cousins Brady and Riley, and treat them like rock stars when they visit. Brady is an especial favorite because he gets down and plays with the kids. This game is called Egg Balancing, I am told.
Sparky, to Brady: "Well, if I can't kill you, will you at least watch me tap dance?!"