Monthly Archive

One of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite movies of last year. It always puts me in a good mood.

Here’s to a great start to a new week.

I’m actually brushing back a few tears right now. Mostly happy ones, thankfully, but a few sad ones. Out of the clear blue, I just decided to revisit my old Mockingbird blogger site I never deactivated and as a result, I’ve been taking quite an interesting walk down memory lane on this otherwise dreary and rainy Sunday. As a person who’s been writing for years — for fun, for satisfaction and yes, for money — one of my favorite and most useful tools of staying fresh and keeping motivated has been reflection.

In recent posts, Holly and I have discussed a talk about blogging we had at a meet up and the gist of it has really had me in deep thought lately. One of the most important subjects we touched upon (and now, cover your ears, preachers, pastors and reverends everywhere) was the fact that our blogs evolve. Our writing evoles. There’s that word. Evolution. But, no, we’re not talking about how the writing once may have crawled on all fours before it stood up to skip on two feet. We’re talking about how, as we’ve grown, matured, met new friends, visited new areas and adopted new ideas, the writing in our blogs has subsequently taken on a new shape and focus. It’s a constant experiment. We write about what means the most to us, what’s foremost on our minds, what we want people to know and then we wipe the slate clean and begin again with an entirely new set of subjects.

Right now, I have a drawer full of stories I wrote in kindergarten and first grade complete with illustrations. I’ve kept up with essays from high school, a few stories from college and a few newspaper articles from later on. My old blogger site carries the same sort of writing with memories attached — turning 25 (or as I called it, a quarter century), getting my dog, looking at the war through the eyes of a soldier friend, making New Year’s resolutions, being starstruck, meeting Finn.

Bottom line: Writing is growing. The words are synonymous. Fed by determination and inspiration, they follow a parallel path that sometimes wanders through unknown, frightening darkness yet always winds back into downhill bicycle riding excitement and reward with applause and self-fulfillment as the background music.

Best of luck to everyone on this journey.

Thanks for coming along on mine.

She even let me drive it to Wal-Mart last night. And control the radio. Woot!

Sound the alarm! All hope is not gone. The best case scenario just took place and I was a witness to it. Davidson defeated Wisconsin and Memphis annihilated Michigan State.

And the Tigers went 26 for 35 from the free throw line!!!

It’s quite late and I have nothing more to say other than…….

Couldn’t resist posting this quick clip of Memphis fans giving the Tigers the “Hustle and Flow” treatment.

Have a wonderful Friday, everyone, and go Tigers!

Elizabeth is walking with a bigger bounce in her step today. She just came in from working a 7 to 7 shift at the hospital, but she looks as if she’s gotten a full night’s rest and a few espressos in her to boot.

Plopping down at the computer desk, she flashed me a mischievous grin and declared, “It’s been 62 days as of today and in just a few short hours, I’ll be getting my car back.”

It’s really been hard on her. The minute her beautiful new ride got smashed to pieces from the straight line winds that came through our area 62 days ago, she immediately shaded herself under a veil of mourning. Her first car had been totally destroyed and the person at the repair shop was very up front with her when he informed her that parts to a 2008 car would take a while to ship. While she waited and waited and went through a 62-day period of something resembling a cousin to PMS (unfortunately for all of us who had to put up with her), work was delayed, progress got behind and snail mail acted up as it always does.

Her car was supposed to be finished a couple of weeks ago but because of mechanical malfunctions at the paint shop, delays in shipping the parts from California to Memphis and finally up here and Mother Nature’s making it rain and be soggy almost every other day lately, work is just now being completed. And it’s a rainy day, go figure.

I wish I had a before and after shot, but when the car gets safely back into the driveway today (and, according to Elizabeth, every single tree around the house is either uprooted or chainsawed to death) I’ll post a picture of Old Humpty Dumpty. Finally put back together again.

And there was much rejoicing!  

Last night, I should have done something constructive. Anything. I could have chosen to watch paint dry. I could have gone outside and counted the stars. I could have done most anything except watch NCAA basketball (as I chose to do) and would have had a great night. But sadly the sin of the flesh gave in and I was a slave to the television for the better part of the night. Would have been wonderful if any of the teams I wanted to win in any of the four games I watched had actually won. Instead, I watched UNC trounce Washington State, West Va. fall in overtime to Xavier, Western Kentucky come up short against UCLA and, most painful of all, Tennessee throw most of the fundamentals of the game out the window to get pummeled by Louisville.

That sets up the scenarios of #1UNC vs. #3 Louisville and #1 UCLA vs. #3 Xavier. Yawn. Forgive me for wanting to go into hibernation over this.

My only hope now is that tonight Davidson will prevail over Wisconsin and Memphis will defeat Michigan State. Otherwise, I’ll plan on throwing a combination toenail-trimming/booger-picking party on the night of the NCAA championship game.   

Note to Memphis: It’s Friday. Cut class, go to the gym and shoot free throws. Now. If you can’t get the ball in the basket cleanly, aim for the square in the center of the backboard and bank it in. It’s cheap, but it’ll work.

Rant over.

Last week I contracted a terrible case of hoops hydrophobes which had me foaming at the mouth over the prospect of several possible matchups in the NCAA tournament. Now that the field has been narrowed and a few of my picks and favorites have given up the ghost and are looking at their long lists of woulda, coulda, shouldas, the “phobes” part of my disease has really kicked into high gear.

I’m just plain scared. Just plain scared. As previously mentioned, I am a Tennessee person and an underdog person and thankfully, both Tennessee and Memphis are still in the mix. So is a little team I’m quickly beginning to love called Davidson. I must admit, I’m quickly falling in love with a little guard who goes by the name of Stephen Curry. Keeping me scared, however, is the fact that UNC, UCLA and KU remain in the picture.

Even though I’m a tried and true optimist (most of the time), let me tell you that the play of both Tennessee and Memphis as of late has turned me into a doubter. Memphis is now staring at a matchup against Michigan State. If the Tigers can’t shoot better than 50 percent from the line, they’re kaput and they will have proven all the naysayers and most of the country right in the widespread prediction floating around that they’ll be the first number one to bow out of the competition.

Tennessee is currently taking the floor by experimenting with the position of point guard. It’s enough to give me an ulcer. Now’s not the time to experiment with such an all-important position. It gives me the chills. And the Louisville Cardinals and Rick Pitino are licking their chops at the prospect of upsetting a number two seed and moving on to the Elite Eight.

But, here’s an upset alert straight from the horse’s mouth. I like the Western Kentucky Hilltoppers to upset UCLA. Don’t know why. Just feel it in my bones. Actually, maybe that’s just my sudden coffee craving perking up, but I’m calling it an upset alert anyway.

Keeping with the optimism, how ’bout them Lady Vols? Twenty-seven tourneys equaling 27 Sweet Sixteens. I’d say that’s batting 1.000. Congrats to the Lady Vols and their coach who just netted number 100 in tournament wins.

Now, if I remember my literature and cinema correctly, they put Old Yeller down for having hydrophobes. Maybe it’ll be the same for my hoops version of the disease. Who knows? But all of you professional prognosticators, pundits and Punxsutawney Phil wannabes all over, hear me now. Keep it up with calling certain teams “unbeatable”. Just keep bragging. After all, everyone knows what happend to the ship once heralded as “unsinkable”. It sank.

Aside from my terrible case of hoops hydrophobes, life has been going on and here are just a couple of the instances that have taken place in it.

Last Friday: Holly and I met up at BDx for some java and conversation and like all of our meetups, there was never a dull moment. Miss Holly, thankfully, is recovering nicely (from her recent bout of illness not our visit), but at the same time she’s made me never want to eat sushi again, darn it. No more California roll for me. Not for a while, anyway.

We chatted, gossiped and otherwise jabbered about school, job prospects, famous people we’d met, seen and gotten brave enough to talk to and, of course, blogging. Holly will soon be going on a very well-deserved vacay and I feel very good about her chances of relocating and obtaining another teaching position.

Easter: Everyone congregated at gma’s house this year. The crowd seemed to be slimmer than ever, but the eats were ironically in larger supply than they’ve ever been. As usual, I resumed my position in the kiddie seating area as I was pushed away from the main adult table. Oh well, I’m used to it. Plus, it put me closer to the telly and the Tennessee game.

My gma, with her strawberry blonde wig, was the perfect hostess as always and though we had no egg hunt, we stayed entertained with silly stories about the yams which spawned off the inevitable silly stories about growing up. Overall, a great time and bestest of all, plenty of Cadbury eggs to go around.

Later on, I passed by a local chuch and took notice of its billboard.

“Christ arose from the grave; you can rise from the bed.”

Suh-weet and sassy!  

A couple of days ago, I could no longer resist the urge to try my hand at making $5 million by writing out the perfect NCAA tournament bracket, so I sat down and just did it. After the first day of play, I had to wad it up and throw it out the window, but that doesn’t mean I’m not watching anymore. It simply means that I’m joining the other hundreds of millions of people who can’t write the perfect bracket.

Rats! 

Last night’s games made things very interesting for a load of people, I’m sure. Happily, two #13 seeds and two #12 seeds prevailed. Unhappily, one of those teams to fall to a #13 seed was…sniff….Vandy. A few prognosticators picked Siena to defeat the Commodores. Did they know something we didn’t know? Anyway, I’m heartbroken.

Quick question. How many people picked #15 Belmont to defeat media darling #2Duke? Hands in the air. Be honest. Well, I did. And it nearly happened! The Bruins were one layup away from making ESPN go into mourning and take a day off from broadcasting.

The Governors from Austin Peay fell to the Texas Longhorns last night by 20. No upset there by the OVC champion. Just more heartbreak for me at another Tennessee team falling out of the mix.

So, as you’ve probably guessed by now, I’m an underdog kind of person and I’m a Tennessee kind of person. It would suit me just fine to see three out of the four number one seeds go down. Except for Memphis, of course. Outside of the state of Tennessee, I was disappointed to see George Mason, Gonzaga and Georgia ousted.

So, my bracket’s busted. Blown up. Destroyed even. But, today, women’s play starts and here’s where I flip flop. No underdogs in this bracket. Just the Lady Vols all the way. That’s the way I roll.

I leave you with one of the greatest moments ever in sports.

Bring on the games!

Everyone’s favorite mailman, Mr. McFeely, recently delivered perhaps his most important ”speedy delivery” to Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood fans worldwide that today, March 20, be declared Sweater Day in honor of Rogers’ 80th birthday.

Every day, I used to plant myself in front of my grandmother’s television in anticipation of the little red trolley rolling down the track and Mister Rogers’ smiling face entering through the door as he prepared to change into his cardigan and more comfortable shoes. Best part of the day.

I’m going to go search for a sweater.

This made me cringe for this poor goalie.

Hurts to watch.

Here’s hoping you have a much better Wednesday than this guy’s Tuesday night. Or, on the other hand, here’s hoping you have as great of a Wednesday as the guy who made the goal.

Either way, just have a great one.

I’m starting out this sunny St. Paddy’s Day on a Robert Louis Stevenson kick and I’m pausing just a second to dedicate this day of shamrocks and Erin Go Braugh to a subject which is very near and dear to me.

My keychain.

A couple of years ago I had the honor of interviewing a couple of relatives of a city recorder in our area. These people had come in to see the Soybean Festival and were completely intrigued by everything they saw, smelled and heard inside the small town. These were no ordinary relatives, however. They were genuine Ireland natives. After our interview, as a token of friendship, they presented me with a “wee person” and ever since that interview, he’s had a permanent place on my keychain.

If you’ve ever in your life seen me, you’ve not seen me without him. He travels wherever I go. Maybe because if I must travel, then I must drive. Hee. He has managed to be the best conversation starter I’ve ever had. I happened to bump into an Irish person while waiting in line at Fido’s one Saturday and we talked for an hour about my wee little man.

And yes, he is lucky. He’s gotten lost at Garrett Lake in the dark and finally turned up hours later inches away from the water. He fell out of my pocket at a ballgame and was announced as, “This person with a leprechaun attached to a keychain better come over here and get it.”

I have no fear about wearing green today because I have my lucky leprechaun by my side. Or in my ignition.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day!

To enjoy the entire RLS poem, go here.  

Oh Georgia Dome, Oh lovely sports arena stuck in the middle of Margaret Mitchell’s hometown and Coca-Cola’s Haven of Rest, How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways.

Thou art undeniably one of the greatest and most imposing venues in the entire country. Thou are the largest cable-supported dome in the US of A. Thou provided me and my bff with some wonderful memories of women’s final four games back in 2004 and we were so crazy over thee that we had to come back and see you twice in three days. (Darn it. Lost the Shakespeare vibe. Must get it back.) We took joy and frustration in navigating thy spacious outer walkways and thy twisted parking garages. Why, we even parked illegally just because we could find no other spot on any level of thy cavernous plaza of parking. And thou wert generous enough to keep thy wondrous security staff from bestowing upon us any tickets of the parking variety. Bless thee.

But yesterday, in the middle of thy hosting the SEC tournament, when thy roof began to sag under the intense weight of tornadic winds and thy ceiling began to sag and ripple, it made me incredibly sad. Thou art no longer the host of the SEC tournament as it’s moved to a sister venue, but I wish thee a speedy recovery and a return to true form in the coming days ahead.

*This totally spastic post was made possible through bucket fulls of coffee and intense boredom. And, of course, a great love for the Georgia Dome. 

Especially for BF. xoxo

Happy Friday, everyone!

A few years ago, I got a text message asking me what day Christmas was on. In the mood to be very snarky, I replied, “Duh, March 9.”

Since then, every March 9, I receive a text message wishing me a Merry Christmas. No joke. 

This year, March 9 fell on a Sunday when patches of Saturday’s snow had yet to melt, so I answered back, “I guess we’re actually having a white Christmas this year.”

This is going to be more of just a woot for myself, but for the first time in five years, I can access the internet from home! No more trips to McDonald’s, the library or the park. If I get the urge to send an email at 3:45 in the morning, I can. If I want to change my myspace wallpaper when ice is covering the road and traveling is impossible, well, changing the wallpaper will still be possible. If I want to blog more than once a day or (these days) once in a blue moon, I can manage that. If I want to proofread something 50 times before sending it, change up the words in a sentence 100 million times to make something sound better or totally redo something just because it sounds terrible, I can do that now without worrying that I’ll use up the computer battery too quickly. 

Do you know how good it feels to be able to get on the ‘net whenever you want to, snuggled up on the couch with a cup of coffee by your side and your dog and guinea pig at your ankles? Well, actually, yes you do. But now, I do too. And all I can say is hay-ells to the yes, this is mega super wonderful!

YES, INDEEDY!!!!

I don’t like to brag, I hate bragging and usually, if I even consider bragging about something, I banish the idea out of my head altogether hoping never to pick it up again, but……. I INTERVIEWED SHANNON MILLER. Face to face, one on one, up close and personal. One week after Shannon was interviewed by the pros on The Today Show, she came to Weakley County to put on a clinic for a local gymnastics club and I got to talk to her. Probably, no, MOST definitely the highlight of my career thus far. My chance to meet a person I grew up watching and idolizing and also my chance to be up there with the “bigs”.

Oh, yes, the interview itself…..Shannon was really the most down-to-earth, small-townish person I’d ever interviewed. I even began expecting her to throw in some “ya’ll’s” and “fixin’ to’s” in her sentences, but it didn’t happen. I bet she thought about it, though. 

Despite the fact that she’s traveled all over the world in competitions and has worked as a commentary person for major television networks and done thousands of endorsements, she admitted that coming to our area made her feel as if she were coming home. I even made her laugh a few times. Classic. Wonderful. I’m still on cloud nine.

And as if that weren’t enough ingredients to add to the mixture of the perfect day, I did get the chance to go sledding some. A bit. Well, okay. All day. And let this be said. Palmersville, Tennessee, home of the pirates, the pirate church and some of the most awesome people you’ll ever meet in your entire life is also the home to some of the BEST sledding hills in the entire world. Yes, I said world.

Sigh. Right now, life is very very good. I just want to hug everyone.

Now, folks, don’t get me wrong. I relish a good snow day just as well as the next 20-something year old kid. When I first heard about there being a possibility of half a foot of the white stuff descending on our area, I giggled with glee as I imagined myself zooming down a 100-foot drop out in the country somewhere on my brand new shiny Flexible Flyer/flying saucer/electric-powered snow shovel, etc.

BUT………..

If it just so happens to cancel the flight of the person I get to meet tomorrow bright and early in the A.M. for a once-in-a-lifetime visit, then, well, pooh on it.

Anyone who knows me even a tiny bit knows what a huge sports fan I am. I follow most anything. Seriously. And in the summer olympics, I follow basketball and gymnastics the closest. Well, tomorrow, our fair (or snowy) area will be visited by none other than….…

SHANNON MILLER!!!!!

So, yeah, I want it to snow so I have a reason to go out and buy my deluxe super sled, but, I really really want to still be able to interview Shannon Miller.

Oh, the drama. Oh, the agony. Oh, the waiting.

It must be said that I’m a huge fan of Helen Keller. I was hooked from the moment I first laid eyes on “The Miracle Worker” to my first visit to Ivy Green to my grand tour of the town of Tuscumbia from my bff who is a native Tuscumbian.

Naturally, I was overjoyed to see this on the yahoo home page.

Warms my heart to be able to pick up another Helen Keller tidbit. The Tuscumbia/Florence area is truly magical and blessedly snow free for the moment. No one knows that better than Holly.

Think I’ll just head south for the rest of the winter. Anyone for joining me? There’s plenty of room in the car.