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Showing posts from July, 2013

6 parenting tips for the new royal parents

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While the new royal baby, George Alexander Louis, has an awful lot going for him--a mouthful of name, money and his pick of fabulous castles to call home--his new parents may need some parenting tips, and I'm not sure they have the best role models to turn to. In case they want to swim outside the Royal Gene Pool for parenting help, I'd like to offer up these tips from my dad, who's been a parenting King for longer than I can remember! 1. Love unconditionally. Dad loves cars a lot. This was brought home to me when in the months following me getting my driver's license I hit everything in sight--and many things that were out of sight--poles, the garage, an MG convertible driven by a nasty man in a mustard-colored suit smoking a huge, smelly cigar. And as hard as it was to call Dad and tell him I'd hit something else, it was never because I thought he'd stop loving me. Keep this in mind when little George throws the royal crest, just to see if it will break

Around-the-world architecture tour ...

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... in 37 minutes or less! This has been the summer of colossal, all-encompassing museum experiences. First up, was the ENTIRE HISTORY of mankind (not WOMANKIND, NO, NO, NO) in 45 minutes or less. Now, I've seen ALL the marvels of architecture -- from the Great Wall of China to St. Peter's Cathedral -- without leaving Cullman, Alabama. Ave Maria Rock Grotto at St. Bernard Abbey , "the only Benedictine monastery of men in Alabama" (If you'd have asked me, I'd have said there were NO Benedictine monasteries in Alabama, of men or women or even armadillos. How did they get past the Baptists?) "consists of 125 small stone and cement structures, the handiwork of creative genius (or obsessive fruitcake) Brother Joseph Zoetl, a monk at the abbey for almost 70 years." The quote is from the flyer you get when you visit the Grotto--expect for the parenthetical comments. Those are mine. And it pretty much sums up the works, but it does nothing to captur

The end of the convertible era?

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After 15 years, I traded my 17-year-old Mustang convertible this week for the more grown up, fuel-efficient (boring) car sitting beside her. It was a tough decision. I loved that Mustang, but her parts were going bad and dropping off. It was time to put her out to pasture. This is my baby being towed in the spring--just the first of several times this year she had to visit the garage in an ambulance. She was ready to relax, get out of traffic, have a nice cold quart of oil on the veranda. Funny how she got so old and I didn't! :) She carried small, squealing children, who now at 6 feet+, have literally outgrown her. She carried saxes and costumery and dogs and beach chairs. And she carried me; offering a ride home in the open air after a long day in a cube filled with artificial ligh Enjoy your rest, old girl! And thanks for 15 years of joy.

Celebrate Your Independence!

Happy 4th from the Seed & Feed Marching Abominable ! If you look closely, to the right of the fabulously tall stars and stripes hat and just behind the clarinet player in the bright blue shirt, I'm the sax player in the red tutu. I had no idea I could play Stars and Stripes Forever that FAST! Have a Stars and Stripey Day!

This must be a happy place

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I started a new job today. It seems like I've said that WAY too many times in the last few years. A by-product of the down economy is how I explain it to myself and anyone else who'll listen. But, my new job, has these great sculptures outside the door. Look: It feels like a happy place, after just one day. Here's hoping it stays that way!