Sunday, January 30, 2011

There's a Lesson in the Telling

This weekend was one of the local Home and Garden Expo's held by the Home Builder's Association. This year, instead of holding this event at the University coliseum, it was held at the county recreation complex.  Even scaled down like this it still wasn't all that busy. Not with businesses showcasing their goods or services nor with those who came to see what was new and exciting in architecture, design, construction or landscaping.

FishyDesigns  was invited to hostess a booth for a Contracting company for whom we provide planning and design services. The carrot here was we could showcase ourselves too without paying for a booth. We will do this  again in two weeks for the home show 2 counties over. Same deal.  Many said this year was better than last. Maybe. But on a scale of  one to ten I would give this show a 2.5 .

Even so, I had a great time. I ran into a young builder I haven't seen in a while so we took this opportunity to catch up. His business is "wobbly but standing" and according to him they are willing to build just about anything that pays the overhead. To quote DrewJ  " Fishy if it is an outhouse, doghouse or cat house we will take it on. At the moment we are building a half dozen program houses. Each about 900  square feet and the most basic materials I've ever seen. I mean the budget for labor and material for the flooring is a thousand. That's $1.10 a square foot for the material and labor".

DrewJ and his partner are smart young men with families. DrewJ has boys 5,3 and 2 his partner has kids a bit older at 8,6 and 3. They are smart,hard working, honorable men. Love their wives and their kids and are striving hard to make the world a better place. But! They also are risk taking hellions with more confidence than you can load in a semi. Some might say cocky and brash but really it's just the exuberance typical of youth and joy. Then too there is the competitiveness. Both played football for their respective universities. Both played for smaller schools with  come from behind against all odds winning seasons. They bring that same yard by yard fighting spirit to their business lives.  Tough is a great trait to have in this business.

As part of their infomercial there was a professional video tour of a house they built for the Parade of Homes Showcase back in 2007. FishyDesigns did all the specifications for that house. In the last mad days of rush before the opening (there were 14 houses on the tour) we were all in there together  doing whatever needed doing to make everything as perfect as possible. Three days before the opening  the house wasn't finished.The landscaping wasn't in and it was looking like it wasn't going to happen. Some of the subs had bumped them  to meet the schedules of more established  homebuilders. About 30 hours before the opening event these men were exhausted and trying hard to huddle up a new game plan for completion. Finishing was looking doubtful. God only knows when they had slept last, or had a shower or been home to see their kids. They were dog tired, terribly discouraged and disillusioned but not defeated and still determined.

While they, I and a substitute landscaper were having a  conference a truck nobody recognized pulled up out front. Out of the truck stepped two huge men in their late 50's. I heard a gurgle deep in the throat of DrewJ's  partner Jed, before he took off  at a flat out run toward the truck.  Then DrewJ did the same thing.   Did I mention these men are BIG? DrewJ is 6'-4" about 280 pounds and his partner is even larger at 6'-7" and 330 pounds.  They are younger versions of their daddies, those men exiting the truck. One had come home early  from  a down state vacation, the other had come from Virginia, to help their weary sons. They didn't any of them cry but I did. It was a sight to see those 4 giant men stand shoulder to shoulder, generation to generation with the Dad's saying to their boys, just tell me what you need son and I'll do my best.  I loved witnessing that moment.

Seeing the video reminded me of that day.  I told DrewJ how much I still treasure the memory of that moment with he and his Dad. He sort of nodded and said, "It is a real fine thing now but Daddy and I didn't always get along". I could tell, from his way of saying this, I was about to hear the whole story.

Drew J is an only child. He grew up in a small Carolina town where his Dad was the high school principal, a Deacon at the church, sat on the town council and, coached little league. His Mama was educated but had never had a "career" preferring to be a volunteer and  organizer for the local charities and arts groups.  All his life DrewJ swears he  had an awareness about how lucky he was about family. He  loved both his parents with all his heart, was proud of them and did all he could to never disappoint two such fine people. As he put it, "by the time I was 8 I would rather die than bring shame or embarrassment to my family".

The summer DrewJ was between 9th and 10th grades his Daddy came home one day and told DrewJ to go on down the block to a cousins house and to not come back home until he was called.  Shocked by these instructions DrewJ disobeyed his Dad, walked out the front door and then came back inside by way of his bedroom window.  He was eavesdropping  in time to hear his Dad tell his mom he was leaving her for another. He told her he knew he was choosing to "wrong her" , was probably making a mess of everybody's  lives, he was sorry but the decision was made.  He went on to say he had transferred all his retirement money into a trust for she and DrewJ so "your life as you know it won't be financially disrupted".  Then he left.

You can imagine what life was like for DrewJ and his Mom. Small town gossips are ruthless. His Dad was removed as a Deacon, resigned from the town council, was found unfit to coach young boys  but remained the principle of the school DrewJ  attended. It was Hell in so many ways.  The worst being the awful betrayal of the values his Dad had instilled in DrewJ. When the divorce was final, DrewJ's dad immediately married the other woman. DrewJ declined to share time with his dad and his dad did not force the issue. Soon  though, there were whispers around town that wife2 was ill. Seriously ill. She died within a few months of a brain tumor. DrewJ and his mom did not attend the funeral, didn't send flowers, and offered no sympathy. His Dad took a leave of absence for the remainder of the school year and left town. No one knew where he was.

When DrewJ  was a junior he came home one afternoon to find his Dads car parked out front. He  came in the Kitchen door just in time to hear his father saying, " I think we should make every effort possible to be a family again".  DrewJ swears what came next was pure reflex sans any thought processes whatsoever.  He hauled his Dad out the front door where,

" Swear to God Fishy, Dad and I went at it like two stud dogs in the front yard. If the neighbors had known what was coming  they would have put out the lawn chairs and made popcorn. There we were two big men, the young and the old just doing our damdest to beat each other to pulp. My mother came out the front door and  turned the hose on us like we WERE dogs. At first it wasn't too effective but she turned that nozzle to the power setting and it got our attention. Once  I backed off she stepped in closer and  aimed that water jet right at Dad's treasure. He went down fast and hard but Mom wasn't done. Those boys down at Gitmo could have learned a lot from my Mom about water boarding. She had stored  up a soul full of rage for a year or more and she was letting that water do her talking and her screaming and she did some damage. They hauled Daddy off to the hospital unconscious on a stretcher"

It is a shame you can't hear voices on a blog. I know this must seem  terrible but by the time DrewJ was telling about the ambulance drivers reactions to the injuries I was laughing hard. He is such a fine story teller I could have been watching a video of his parents instead of the Showhouse.  It is a talent when someone can relate a personal tragedy as a comedy. I did ask DrewJ how he and his Mom and Dad manage everything now. He laughed and said, 
" She married him before he got discharged from the hospital. I was so put out by them both I lived with my coach until I went to college. In fact I have never lived with my parents again."

That didn't make me laugh.
I thought about how terrible it must have been for him, how confusing, how infuriating. He claims it's what gave him an extra edge as a ballplayer.  All that unquelled wrath. I told him I was amazed and impressed with his ability to forgive trespasses. He shrugged and  mentioned everybody sooner or later had to recognize their parents  are humans not deities. He laughed a bit and said this,

"It was my wife  Dana who taught me how to accept my parents. Before Dana I had never truly been in love. I'd had my share of youthful romances in high school and college but nothing like I feel for Dana.  When I asked her to marry me she told me she loved me with all her being but she could not say yes because it terrified her to think about life married to a man who cannot forgive. I had to agree to go to counseling with Dana and then with my parents because she was not going to marry into, or bear children for, a family that couldn't all be together in joy ."

Amazing wisdom in a woman so young. They married when Dana was just 21.

I told DrewJ  I guessed his parents were crazy about Dana. He claimed if there was a fire  both of his parents would save Dana first and come back for him if they thought about it.  He went on to say that sometimes  when he is checking on his boys, one last time before going to bed, he thinks how glad he is to be a dad and how glad he is his boys have a grandfather in their lives. Then he said this,

" I don't tell what it was made my Dad choose the things he did, or why my Mom chose to marry him again. What I do tell folks is that I am grateful".

Monday, January 24, 2011

Haiku Monday: STATE

All rise! State you case,
Testify to  Huck's 'nigger'.
Elusive justice.

State obedience?
Millions for Rahm from Freddie?
Get out of my face.

Union as onion.
Peeling layers of deceits.
Teleprompted state.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

The Year of the Rabbit

Market was more  blah than bling.
There was no vibe of energy or excitement.
In numerous showrooms or booths the representatives there did not even look up from their screens. Some were texting, some were gaming, some were skyping the kids, some were watching movies.

No packed showrooms even though I met several buyers who had planned to fly in Monday but couldn't until Wednesday when the ATL airport re-opened. I had worried the market would be packed with the compression of days but there were no crowds. The few  semi-crowded show rooms were Donna Karan Home, Pine Cone Hill, Blue Ocean Traders and one handing our Haagen Daz ice cream bars.
Even at Firefly, Imax, Interlude, Trina Turk, Tara Shaw, Napa Home & Garden, Vietri the reps were standing in the halls visiting, not in the showroom meeting , greeting or selling. Still some of my reps said, "It's been a good market. Well, not 07 'good' but better than 09 or 10". What I observed is most companies had made an effort to offer new introductions with minimum risk. A rational choice, but boring results. Most took their top 20% and tweaked, expanded or recolored these best sellers.  Most new introductions were gorgeous lighting with clean lines, glitzy material combinations like crystal and steel mesh and hugely scaled.  Not a lot of color anywhere except in area rugs, linens and soft accessories. Most of the whimsy was limited to tabletop and gifts with a splash here and there in the garden accessories. Even the art was lifeless.

Really interesting was the huge number of designs or products derived from, depicting  or mimicking  sea life. So much so that I found myself thinking this was the  response to the  Gulf oil spill traumas. Another manifestation of the deep sadness felt over the past year, many showrooms and many of the new furniture finishes are "driftwood", "weathered", "beachtones" ... all words evoking the Gulf. Most are derived from finishing techniques of liming, whitewashing or pickling.  Interesting finishes and techniques, but drabby. I have rarely seen markets with so little color. Lots of charcoal, taupe, smokey neutrals. So much so I found myself yearning for a splash of Honeysucke Pink! There was some but the biggest splash was an article in HFN not products in the showrooms. ( Note to Moi: The publications like HFN , Furniture World and Home Accents Today could use some improvement in their writing staff!)

I enjoyed a lunch break with a shop owner from Kennebunkport ME. Her business is not seasonal, she is open year round and she sports a clientele which " is not effected by changes in the economy." She has a point, if you are down from $380 million to  just $300 million you still can buy pretty much whatever you want.  But her business too has issues. She cannot find the new, different, exciting merchandise her clients desire. To quote her, " same old, same old". She had been at market  four days by the time we met. In that time she claims to have done systematic grid searches to little avail. Poor thing had buckets of money to spend and no place to spend it. Our discussion  led to the revelation she had not gone to the temporaries . I told her of some things I saw there which did not suit my needs but might fit her yen for a hot new introduction. I even had literature which abruptly ended the lunch as she pursued the possibility of " a find".
( Note to Chickory: A week before the Christmas in July Market go to Kennebunkport and  pre sell every ornament you can make between now and then)

Actually my most exciting "find" was a corporate executive drop out who makes fabulous furniture and  lighting from industrial salvage. Steel framed consoles with suspended , rusted cogs, or gears or wheels.
I so liked his stuff but it would be unusual if I had a client who would have his functional art in their homes. Truth is, it wouldn't be a good fit in my home either. But anyone with an Urban Modern vibe, a Loft feel or even like Mermaid, a high ceilinged in Barn apartment could rock this look. I could design an entire restaurant/bar around this mans work. If only.

Most notable was the HUGE Eastern influences on every kind of design. Elements of classic Islamic, Buddhist, and  Hindu religious architecture were everywhere. In furniture silhouettes, in fabric and rug designs, in artwork, in lighting, tiles, even tabletop and garden  products.  I thought, oh-oh these are designs from the East !  Until recently our goods were designed HERE but manufactured there and shipped to America.  Now, I guess as an economic "saving"  American companies are not designing , they are buying existing designs from the East. They modify the designs by limiting the enhancements of mirrors, beads, contrast stitching, cutwork, metals and the colors. The designs are Eastern, the color palettes have been made neutral  for incorporation into American decor. I  found this trend  disturbing. Had these elements been prevalent in the Jaipur Home showroom only I would understand completely. There are large Indian communities here who wish to buy the traditional furniture of their home culture. I did not expect to see this from long established, top of the line American companies. Which I found very disturbing.

Very large  wall sculptures were everywhere

Pretty Neutrals

reworked designs in new finishes

Horrifying Honeysuckle Venetian Glass Chandeliers

Embroidered batiste for Aunty in the temporaries

Neutral again!

Heads were hanging on every wall over in the gifts

  • This could have been the  market mascot


    Some quiet color


    Loved this salvage made furniture and lighting

    Every type of sealife was popular in every category

    Can you tell this copper Mermaid weathervane  was nearly lifesized?

    Cocky Papier Mache Roosters

    Abundance, but not much that is new or different

    colorful graphics in accent items

    Dramatic scale


    Oil jugs for Ali Babba and his 40 best friends

    "Green" design not greendesign

    Loaded with color  over in tabletops

    I understand candles are fun, cheap decor but really I've had enough.

    Sealife in every medium!

    Lots of color in the home linens

    Didn't the Tortoise win?


    Saturday, January 15, 2011

    Sleeping for Memories

    Well, well, well!
    Science is about to explain me to my family.
    Since childhood there have been countless family stories told and retold about my sleeping.  Famous among them is the story of  my mother standing on my head to hang curtains. Seriously. I was asleep, Mama wanted to see the  results of her creativity and couldn't quite reach the curtain rod and therefore used what was handy for that last little step up. I share in the laughter of the telling but I have no memory of this event.   I was asleep.

    Another story my mother tells is of putting me to bed one evening a normal, healthy child. Hours later she came to check on me and found I was still sleeping soundly. She went on to get ready for bed  but some bothersome uneasiness wouldn't leave her alone. She  barefooted back through the house to check the doors were locked, the oven turned off and one more check on  us kids. When she got to my room she turned on the lights knowing it would awaken children but I did not wake up. Not even when she tried to wake me. It was  10 days before I would awaken from a febrile coma. My mother always says it was God whispering in her ear that saved me. She said I had always been such a sound sleeper there was no observable difference.
    ( I've always been grateful for that whisper.)

    Lots of family folklore about my sleeping.
    There is also lots of family stories and some considerable amount of razzing about my memory.
    I have always chatted about dreams and memories. For me  it has always been like watching a movie. Full color, sound, mood, environment. Everything.  When siblings and I are talking about a shared experience I always have a lot to add. We all share the same general memory but I often have more details. As we have matured, sometimes the others have said,
    "That is Fishy's visual thing".
    I do have strong visual memories/recall but I also have the ability to visualize what can be. So there is sometimes doubt if I have a vision based memory the others don't share. Did I mention razzing???

     Science to my rescue!
    Science now knows, KNOWS!, how well we remember is directly linked to how well we sleep.

    When we are awake our memories are stored in the hippocampus portion of the brain. Those memories must then be sorted, cataloged and then stored in the neo-cortex region. That process can only happen in sleep.  A sleeping brain is a busy brain.  It must replay experiences, like video clips, before they can be transformed from short term to long term memories. My brain is stellar at this activity.

    Memory is a huge area of scientific and medical research. What is learned can solve the riddles of learning disorders, stress and trauma disorders, how to retrain brains after strokes or surgeries or physical traumas.  Wonderful stuff.  In VA hospitals they have documented thousands of cases of those with dreadful war experiences never having PTSD and also cases with those who have had less horrifying experiences who do suffer, really suffer, from PTSD. There is the possibility that sleep/memory storage is the answer to the riddle and the path to corrections. We can hope.

    Most of us are familiar with what is termed short term or long term memory.  Now they are discovering there are all sorts of memory types and they are attempting to  understand how and where they are stored and cataloged. Some believe it is based on the sensory register of the experience.  I understand this. If you go to a beautiful restaurant where the environment is great but the food isn't,  different senses are recording the contrasts: bad taste, beautiful visions.  But there are also episodic memories, emotional memories, flash bulb memories, procedural memories and spacial memories. All these memories are components of the video clips our sleeping  brains  must sort, catalog and file for rapid retrieval on demand. Fascinating. This explains how we as humans can have very different memories of the same experience. Was it stored as an emotional memory or as a visual memory?

    This past Summer my Dad was traveling through our state. He came to the Pond for a visit before we set out for lunch. I gave him directions for a bit of a back way to our destination because I wanted him to see a particular house.  I told him, "It's amazing Dad, architecturally it's a smaller version of  Miss Bobbie's house".  His response was, "I'm not sure I remember what that house looked like Fishy. You haven't been in that house since you were really young!"
    I hadn't.
    But I had loved her house, her property, and her. So strong attachments. As we drove down the boulevard  I pointed out the house to Dad who said, "Well I'll be damned!".   This is a memory with  visual, emotional, sensory and procedural components. But where is it stored? I think many of my memories are cataloged and stored visually. Most of my memory triggers start with an image.  Not a feeling or a recalled smell or an interaction. I do not believe this is true of my siblings. I think their memories are thought triggered, so called light bulb memories.

    It is easy to understand how this  sleep-memory link can be a blessing or a curse. If you have a bad experience can you stay awake for days to ensure the memory won't haunt you later?
    If you have a fabulous experience should you immediately take a nap for long term enjoyment?
    Will this science change how we raise our children? How we educate? Train? Prepare?
    I don't have the answers.
    What I do know is I will have  far more compassion for my siblings who have not been blessed with good sleep.  They will miss a lot when  we are in our  rockers remembering when.

    Wednesday, January 12, 2011

    To Market! To Market?

    Market opens today. In Atlanta. Even in good weather I must navigate this concrete spaghetti to get to market. Park about a half mile from the Mart in impossibly steep lots or, leave the Fizz in a public lot on the outskirts and take the MARTA downown.

    That's when things are normal. Now there is snow. Lots of it. Topped with ice. I think there is still a state of emergency declared  through today.

    The MARTA website instucts one to check status before starting out.
    "Expect delays" is a flashing message for both buses and rails.  Caution noted.
    Worse than in the market do I want to be stuck on a MARTA train with ..???

    I am wondering if the goods, the reps, the brass, the guest lecturers, the food has made it to market?

    In the best of conditions it is a huge undertaking to set up for market.  Americasmart is smack in the middle of downtown Atlanta. The logistics are tough. Merchandise from all over the world must be selected, shipped, displayed, priced for thousands to view. All those thousands  will enter into 3 joined buildings in search of excitement, possibilities and  rejuvenation of their businesses. They, plus the thousands working there, will need, food, beverages, toilet paper.

    Do I actually want to get in this?
    I may not need to worry as there is no guarantee I will be able to exit my ice crusted driveway.
    I hadn't planned on going until Thursday or Friday. Now I may have to wait until Monday.

    I  have cabin fever after just two days of confinement. I want out !  I want creative stimulus. , I want to hear people laugh and smell food not of my kitchen. I want to fall in love with new offerings and possible new opportunities. I want to have hope.

    When I turn on the news, hope fades.

    The view out my windows looks like black and white photography. At noon Tuesday, the world was still gray. Bleak. Today the weather heads say there will be sun. But at noon it will only be 29 degrees. There is a prediction for temps above freezing, 33, for about an hour between 3 and 4 pm, after which it will drop to an overnight low of 17, with wind chill, 10.  There will be no real melting of ice and snow until the weekend.

    There will be no Chickory-like videos of dogs frollicking in the  snow. I can hardly  shoo  Will off the deck. He is quite patient.  He looks at the snow then back at me as if to say, " Would you put your naked parts in that?"  I would not but, I point out to him I don't have fur and I do have a toilet. He is not persuaded by my logic and resists encouragement to get out there!  So instead of having engaging conversations with people at market I am talking to a dog about when and where he drops his load. This is low. Really low.

    Market is calling.
    Color! People! Laughter! New creations to evaluate or fall in love with.  And there is the need to get a feel for the new vibe of a changing industry. I am eager to read the signs. Are the showrooms updated or just reworked? Is the merchandise all new or revamped with a few new introductions carefully disbursed . Are the buyers looking or ordering? Are the reps looking excited or strained? Is there something  new and different coming from the young entrepreneurs in the temporary showrooms? Will there be a pervasive excitement or the pall of contining caution? Will I find answers in my observations? I need answers.  I have decisions to make as my primary client base , architects and developers, are dormant.  My secondary base has been  individual homeowners. I need to determine if I can successfully make a conversion. There are doubts as long term, successful, really good  designers in this arena are failing nationwide.

    " Market research" has a new meaning now.

     The early sneak previews seem to be split between the renewable and practical and top of the experience
     luxe. There are those in " the industry" who believe strongly the world has endured three years of severity and are ready to bust loose and demand a change of pace.  They may be right but I do not have a queue of folks desiring $12K sofas or $8K soaking tubs.   I do have clients who say, " Fishy I would like to have a new X but only if the price is right."  I need to go  walk the halls of market if I am to find the well priced X my clients desire. If they exist. If not, I need to locate superior alternatives.

    For today, I will let others know I am not coming. I will study the promos and try to plan my trip by building, by floor,  by showroom, by client need, by my need to satisfy creative curiosity. I wonder if this entire process is a part of a past I cling to?  There is no question our industry, like so many others, is in the midst of a paradigm shift. I do not know on which side of the shift I will land. But I would like to be in control of the landing location as well as the landing itself. Certainly there is logic in recognizing there is a difference in the need to survive and a desire to thrive.  What I want, is both. Will I find a way to achieve both by a trip  to market?
    Maybe not.
    I have to get there first.

    Sunday, January 9, 2011

    Haiku Monday: Crescent

    Hesitant crescent
    Insecure of happiness
    Raggedy Ann smiles

      Pillsbury crescents
    Original,  preserves taste
    Nineteen sixties Mom


                                                                   Siesta Beckons
                              Play! Crescent Beach volleyball
                                       Sand crusted six packs


    Istanbul reveals
    Architectural thieving
    Crescents once Crosses

    By the crescent light
    Dad's tapping foot and crooning
    Silvery lessons

    Saturday, January 8, 2011

    Honeysuckle Optiput

    Get ready y'all.
    The 2011 color of the year is here.
    Pretty soon this color choice will be saturating markets of every description.

     Leatrice Eiseman, of  the Pantone Color Institute, made this beserk statement:
    " In times of stress we need something to lift our spirits. Honeysuckle Pink is a captivating, stimulating color that gets the adrenaline going, perfect to ward off the blues"

    Excuse me Leatrice,
    I think adrenaline release is the body's response to stress and you want to stimulate more of this?

    Okay then, honeysuckle it is .

    Of the collection shown here,
    my favorite is the take out carton.
    I hope it is biodegradeable.
    If not we will see the landfills from space.

    I wonder if Leatrice  has one of those skin tones which glows when accented by Honeysuckle Pink?
    I do not. I can don that color and  be instantly transformed into the Queen of splotch.  And for those who have bright olive complexions? Well, jaudice will be their new "in" look.

    I read this will be THE bridesmaid color for 2011.

    Poor girls.
    They will have to make a new movie,     
    "The 28th Dress" .
    It will be a horror movie.

     Everyone knows the thing teens and tweens need most in this world is more stimulation. Right, a little more adrenalin activated excitement.
    To go with this rash of "must haves" in pink
    Visa is on board
    with the introduction of the newest Honeysuckle Pink credit card.
    Are you feeling inspired yet? Stimulated to spend on the trend?

    See those hip slung skinny legged jeans?
    The reality coming to a future near you is:

    Very round teens
    In tight pink jeans
    Oozin out  from above
    Showing  tattoo love
    Allover their pink extremes!

    Yeah, we are all looking forward to this Leatrice.

                                                 Worse things are coming!
    The last appointment  of FishyDesigns with a StepfordBarbie desiring a "lipstick pink" bedroom with a curtained bed alcove with mirrored ceiling was in the 1980's.  I declined her custom.

    This room is beautifully designed, with good  balance of scale, light, textures. But honestly
    do you not expect to see Doris Day in there too? I feel kind of sorry for the poodles which will be dyed to match.

    Next week, I am off to Market.  I have a bit of anxiety that I will be trapped in packed elevators and showrooms with buyers exhibiting adrenalin stress overloads from the assault of Honeysuckle Pink
    in every corner of the massive market buildings. I will endure company reps in a state of mania from spending a week encapsulated in Pepto Bismol Pink as they again and again guide people to view every conceivable object in this intense color .


    Does even one of you know a single human who would willing occupy this pink on pink on pink room?

     Pink Lemonade Honeysuckle
    Is a beautiful , sweet smelling, bee happy flower.

     For every Spring of my life I can remember,
    I look forward to that very first whiff of Honeysuckle. I have adored Honeysuckle as an attraction for birds to my gardens. I've loved the smell , the look, the introduction of a fine season to be.

    Never once did I think it should take over my life.

    Sunday, January 2, 2011

    Party Wrap

    I surely enjoyed my first blog party. It was far bigger and busier than I ever expected. I am again struck by the notion of what an unusual group this is.

    There are other boggy communities I visit.  Some about small business, some for designers, some for  horsey people. But even though I enjoy these  other locations, it isn't the same as here.

    Here we are a group of diverse interests  but somehow this community is a staple in the lives of the regulars. I find this a present  in my life. Blessings on you all.

    Okay back to the games!
    There are some limericks I didn't get posted before the deadlines. Maybe it was the bubbles. When I set about cleaning up my office I tore scribbled sheets off the legal pad and tossed 'em in  the trash. Later I knocked the basket over. When I picked up the limericks scratch pad I read a bit and found  myself laughing out loud at the foolishness written there.

    In my family I am known for writing really bad, really funny "poetry". Back in middle school, about the same time I was getting over my first heart break, I also got a poetry writing homework assignment. We had all been encouraged to " write what you feel". What I was feeling was that mix of hurt and anger that accompanies a break up. So my  poem was this:

    "If you love me no more
    Drop dead on the floor"

    Unfortunately for me, an older sibling found my homework and broadcast her findings to the merriment of all.
    So bravely and foolishly, for your merriment, I will now post all the limericks. It was my intent to write limericks about all the game hosts for our virtual party. But the more I partied .. well you know.  Some were posted over at Aunty's games, some are as they were in the trash, others have now been completed. May you all have a good laugh.


    There is a fine Aunty from Natchez
    Her batiste is always in patches
    When she was asked why
    She replied wif a sigh,
    When I itches, I scratches!


    Boxer, our dog decorating host
    Encourages competitive posts
    Her motives are clear
    A profitable new year
    For  charities coast to coast!


    Gameleader Troll returned to our blogs
    Makin' us happy as mud swallowed hogs
    Beat my best score!
    He challeged by roar,
    Alas, no score! Effective egg nogs!


    TopEggy's brunch looks tres yummy,
    Really teasing this virtual tummy
    With culinary feats galore
    And new drinkies to explore?
    Woe! that I'm home with my Honey.


    Moi professed her big  love for Ivan
    And confessed her marathon strivin'
    But first there was brunch,
    To be followed by lunch
    What amazing  caloric connivin!


    Strung papers and glue gunning stickery
    Resulted from classes with Chickory
    Our fingers are sore
    From helpin the poor
    But goodness is everyones victory !

    ( still LOL over her word "flabulous" )


    Michelle the First Lady Slacker
    Rides a smiling poll taking tracker
    " For Dumbama!" she claims
    While gripping the reins
    No wonder the media all back her!