Are YOU My Mother?

"I am not your mother. I am a cow," said the cow.

Bureaucracy Rears Its Ugly Head

The following is a bit I wrote for the East Valley Times a couple of years ago.
The Reeeeeeely funny thing about this came in the mail this summer!

A few days ago a Shasta College catalog came in the mail.
Coincidentally I had been pondering the possibility of taking a class in pottery making. I checked the catalog and found a beginning ceramics class. What luck!
I went to my computer to fill out the application form, thinking,
“My oh my! The Internet has made so many things easier-for most people.”
On the school’s website, I got a questionnaire with multiple-choice answers.
My first choice to make was:

Am I still in high school? Or
Have I attended college classes before? Or
Is this my first time to enroll in Shasta College?

OK, well, I am definitely not still in high school, and I have taken college classes before, but I am enrolling in this college for the first time.
Eenie meenie miney me, I think I’ll take choice number three.

Unfortunately, this choice generated instructions for me to attend orientation and matriculation. (Matriculation?) Then I needed to be assessed in math and English.
Oh, no I don’t.
I ignored that part.
Next instruction:
Send high school transcript.
Since my high school was torn down about thirty years ago, I think I’ll ignore that part, too.

Next they requested that I write letters asking for any college transcripts I might have accumulated.
This was getting confusing. That’s too many letters to write for a fun class.
I skipped that part as well.
Next came the level of education question. Didn’t I already answer this? My choices were:
__Finished high school (Yes, During the Kennedy administration!)
__GED (Didn’t know this was an option at the time.)
__Some College (Yes, about 300 units!)
Since the technology wouldn’t let me elaborate, I chose the latter.

Now I found questions (still multiple choice) about my reasons for attempting to enroll in college. My choices were something like:
__To further my career
__To learn new skills so I can leave my sorry job
__For professional growth
__I just got out of high school and don’t know what else to do.

No, I don’t want to do any of the above! I only want to take the one class, just for fun!
As it turned out, after name and address none of the questions were answerable.

I needed a real person.
I called and got to speak to a sweet young voice that assured me that I could take the pottery class for fun. I just needed to get a “Webadvisor” account on line.

So, I spent the next half-hour arguing with my computer screen and pounding on my keyboard, attempting to accidentally establish a webadvisor connection.

(Let me interject here, that everything I accomplish on my computer, I do so by accident.)

Somewhere during my inexpedient floundering, I got an email from a guy at the school asking me if I needed help. He was very polite. He didn’t say, “What in heck are you trying to do, you cretinous schmendrick?” as I am sure he was thinking.

I dashed off the following return email.


Hi there,
What I want to do is enroll in Beginning Ceramics S2598.
What I did was attempt to apply for a webadvisor account.

Lynn Guinn & lguinn are taken, (Imagine! There’s another Lynn Guinn in these parts!) so I added #947 (my favorite flight, to Cancun, where I was wishing I could immediately be transported.), and the account was set. When I tried to access this account to enroll in said ceramics class I got back that lguinn947 is not a valid user name.

I tried several times with several capitalization configurations, and
sometimes it liked my username but not my password, and sometimes it liked my password and not my user name!

I am sure it is I, who is bungling here, because computers never make mistakes.

Perhaps the system is annoyed with me because I do not want to follow all of the directions and send for the appropriate transcripts, but I am a 61 year old retired public school teacher with a masters degree and this procedure would require more letter writing and red tape than I wish to participate in. I don't want to further my career; I don't want credit, or even a grade. I simply want to play with clay.
Thank you for your help,
Lynn Guinn,
Confirmation number 1631-02006S-4-01085007-099634441-0745276358
(Quite an epic number, wouldn’t you say?)

The helpful guy gave me the tools I needed to enroll. When I finally got through, I found that the twenty spaces in the class were filled and there were twenty-five more wishful artists on the waiting list.
I couldn’t help but think that when I began the process of enrollment there was plenty of room for me in the class, but by the time I actually applied, alas, the spaces were all filled.

I hope that by the fall semester the people at the college have realized they need more classes in clay. I certainly hope I don’t forget my confirmation number.
__________________________________________________________________

Then this came this summer:
__________________________

Dear Lynn,

Our student records reflect missing information in regards to your high school attendance.

In order for Shasta College to provide you the best service now and in the future, please reply to this email and provide us with the following information;

*Name of high school last attended

*City and state of high school

*Year of graduation or pending graduation

Please reply to this email with the updated information.

Thank you for your time, and we hope that Shasta College is meeting your educational needs.

Shasta College
Admissions & Records

Guilty Treasures

OK, so I do have a "Collection."
However I must say, I use it.
It's practical.
It is durable.
It does not break.
(Unless you drop certain pieces on a tile floor from a high perch.)
If I overhear someone say, "One can't have too much Fitz and Floyd," I scoff.
I someone says, "One can't have too much Arthur Court," I say, "I KNOW!--So True!"
I got the salad bowl, my first piece, from the staff of a school I was leaving to go to another school. I was sad to leave them, but I felt the need to change my direction a bit. I use that bowl almost every day. I think of them, too.
I can't imaging what else I might need in this category, but if I see something, IT. IS. MINE!
By the bye, Guilty?
No. Just teasing.

Delicious Zero Calorie Snack

Stewart's Diet Orange 'n Cream soda
+
Orange Sugar-Free Jello
=
Yummy Snack

You Are Welcome

The Famous Blue Angels

I have just realized what the best job in the world is!
Flying as a Blue Angel.
Just tell me one thing that could be better than flying those Way Hot Sexy Jets and then talking about them for all the rest of the time.
Could it get any better?
Today we went out to the airport and sat outside our son's hanger and watched them practice.
I took a couple dozen pictures of the hot dogs.
When six jets fly over you at a low altitude it makes your nether parts rumble and vibrate. OOOOH Yeah. I loooove them!

Awfully Big Art Adventure

Clicky


http://bigartadventure.blogspot.com/
One of my favorite sayings comes from a song that Steve Perry sang when he was with Journey. (Loooove me some Steve Perry!)
I decided to incorporate it in my Awfully Big Art Adventure, since the theme is keys.
Here is my offering. Click above the pictures where it says "Clicky" for more information on ABAA.

Tablescape Thursday?

I crack myself up.

Jenny and Streak

This lovely cowgirl is my daughter-in-love, Jenny.
I am so fortunate to have her in my family. We all needed her so much!

Random Tuesday Thoughts

Using coupons makes you buy things you will never use.

Senior pictures and Pictures of seniors are very different.

Only a Ninnyhammer will buy onions because of the color of the net bag they are in.

Chickens look hilarious when they run. Hilarious.

You can earn money by throwing a fit in an airport.

Birds are not polite and they do not share.

It is dangerous to leave your Facebook page open on your monitor when you have a son like mine.

South of Broad.

This is what I am reading right now. Pat Conroy! Every sentence he writes is a work of art! Pure poetry. Clear pictures.

"Cleo was a fast talking Greek girl who ran the cash register as though she were reloading an M16 rifle for snipers."
and
"In all the days since that unkillable day, neither my mother nor my father, nor any shrink or social worker, nor priest or nun, nor relative or friend of the family, could show me the pathway to a normal productive life with that ghoulish entry visa affixed to my passport."
and
"I could not have made my mother smile if I had exchanged arm farts with the Pope in the Sistine chapel."

Excuse me,
I have to go read now.

All Part of Life's Rich Pageant

This is my Pink Saturday offering.
To see more go see Bev athttp://howsweetthesound.typepad.com/my_weblog/

This is my car.
It is a very girly-looking Honda Pilot.
I have had it for five years.
(Yes. Five.)

I am obviously not a car person.
(Unless it's a Mustang 5.0 but I crashed it and got a sensible car.)

For all five years it has had this pink banner on the back window.
Why?
Why.

Well, I say it all the time. Especially when people say something to me like,


"I drove all the way to my yoga class and there was a note on the door saying it was canceled."
Or
"I got the Riser kid in my class."
Or
"I pooped my pants in Wall-Mart yesterday."

I can be somewhat obnoxious.


Just discovered: "Based on a True Story"
http://www.spiritblog.net/
Go check her out for yourself!
She's a good writer!

Have You Been In the Ditch Again?

Is it
Wednesday?

If so,
This is
my
outdoor
post.

Lexie
was busy
getting
muddy,




While I
was
busy

working
in my
garden
here.

Naughty
Lexie!

See how
penitent
she is?


not.

We're Going To Ireland!

We'll be
cruising down
the Shannon River
and then
renting a car
and
desperately
seeking
relatives.

Well,
perhaps not
desperately,
but seeking
none the less.

Our great-great
grandmother was
"seeing"
a guy that her
daddy didn't
approve of

so he locked
her away in
a convent.

She, being spunky,
climbed over the
wall one night
after midnight
and ran off with
the bad boy and
came to America.


She had our great
grandfather before
the journey was
over,
so perhaps
she was doing
a LIT-tle more
than Seeing him.
So.
Let it be said
that it is
not my fault.

Whatever I do.
It's not my fault!
It's in my DNA.

I made this
Travel Journal
for my sister,
who is going too.

It's not her
fault either.

Hoppin John and Fried Okra For Supper

MMMMMM Good






Black-eyed peas and ham mixed with rice,

Okra fried in cornmeal,


Cornbread,


and an apple pie made by the man of the house.



Granddaughter, Halie says,

"Pops?
Did you mean to burn this okra stuff?"

Excellent giveaway

http://rebecca-gatheryeroses.blogspot.com/

Do NOT go to the address listed above and join in on the lovely giveaway, because I want it for my friend Shari's new (and First) granddaughter!

OK? Now don't even go look at it because you'll want it too.

Carol Anne's Giveaway

http://www.carolannesboutique.blogspot.com/



Do not go to the address above for the fantastic giveaway because it is so wonderful that I want to win it. And I usually don't go for giveaways.
Hear?

You will probably want to go AFTER the give away is over because she has such fantastic stuff there in!!

Did you hear me?

After!

Don't be watering down my chances of winning!

Where Were You When The World Stood Still?

On the day school started in 2001, Richard, myself, and another retired couple of educators drove by our schools to honk good-bye in a “Na-na-na-na sort of way. Then we headed off to visit all of the western national parks and monuments.
We went to Yellowstone and then to the Black Hills to see the Presidential Heads on a Mountain. We were having a great time enjoying our new found freedom.
On September 11, we were in Cody, Wyoming. We awoke to the terrible sights on television, along with everyone else in the nation.
Our plan had been to head for Mt. Rushmore that day.
After some discussion and several emotional phone calls home, (Home! Suddenly we just wanted to be home!), we decided to proceed to our destination. We couldn’t help but think of the teachers we left behind and the children in their classes. What were they saying to them? How could they explain this? I remember how emotional it was the day the Challenger exploded. This was of a far greater scope.

With our car radio tuned to the unfolding news, we crossed into South Dakota
.
The sky was eerily empty.

We called our loved ones again. Daughter Martie had decided to keep our granddaughter home from school. No one seemed to know what would happen next.

As we came upon the area of Mt. Rushmore, there were armed guards at the access road. We took their picture. We soon learned that all of the monuments across the United States had been closed down. Our plans would have to change.
.
When Mt. Rushmore re-opened we attended the show that first night. I’m sure that the show is always wonderful, but that night! Oh my! It was emotionally charged with that ultra-patriotism that everyone had suddenly come to enjoy. Tears washed the faces of everyone in the audience as we sang, “America,” “ The Star Spangled Banner,” and “God Bless America.”

We stayed on the road for the next week. There was a different feel out there. Flags popped up on cars. People were more open and friendly. Strangers were acting like old friends. Everyone was open and raw. My hair stood on end. When I think of it now, it does still.

An Award! An Award!

Thank you Vivienne!

And I don't have to do a thing!

Do I?

Jelly Belly Governator and Three Great Hair-dos

A
remarkable
comb-over.












An
interesting
Wedgie.

Sort
of
reminiscent
of
Kate

as in Plus Eight.










Then we have this one.
I love the way he parts it across the back of his head and runs it forward and ends in the little curl in the front.






I'm pretty sure I could never have a conversation with this guy, serious or otherwise.























And for the last fair picture of the year, I give you

The Governator

Made entirely of Jelly Bellies from

Call-EE-Forn-EE-uh