I have a special friend who comments on my blog almost daily. Her name is Lara and the other day I thanked her for commenting. She mentioned if she had a blog she would want comments. And I want comments too!!
I love, love, love, love, love it when you respond to my jibberish. If you’re still reading my daily nonsense, I’d want to hear from you and get to know you a little better. So today, I’ve thrown out some questions for you. You can choose to answer one or all of them in the comment section, respond to someone else’s comments NICELY, or just say hi! Let’s make it fun.
We live in a household without TV. Granted we still have a TV and a satellite dish, but we have turned it off. I had a serious addiction to reality TV that you can read about here, and had to say enough is enough. Enough! And then my husband said it too.
What’s your favorite TV show? Would you accept my challenge to go one day with no TV in your home? Do you think it would work. Report back to me!
Today at school we observed a National Moment of Silence at 10:00 for those involved in the Arizona shooting. Of course the majority of my second graders didn’t understand what we were doing. I got several “what in the world is going on” looks and a couple of blurted out What Happened’s?
Is it awful of me to say that I don’t even know really? I knew there was a shooting only because I read a headline about a congresswoman who had been shot on Yahoo while checking my mail. But I didn’t stop to read it. One of my co-workers referred to the shooting as a terrorist attack by an American on other Americans.
I just don’t understand our hate sometimes. What are your thoughts?
Because I can’t keep quiet about my chickens and must, I mean MUST, tell everyone I encounter, I have discovered that all people over the age of 55 have a chicken story, and they love to tell them. As soon as they hear that I’m getting chickens, they immediately go to their “C” file cabinet in their mind and pull out their chicken stories. This weekend I’ve heard stories of going to the depot to pick up chicks by mail order. I’ve heard tales of boys lighting firecrackers, letting the chickens pluck them in their beaks and then blowing their beaks off. I’ve heard of a woman who was afraid of chickens and called her husband at work to tell him with alarm that the rooster was in the henhouse and she didn’t know what to do. She was on a party line. I’m too young to know what that is, but evidently more than two people could talk on a phone line at a time. A man (not her husband) on the party line piped into her conversation with this advice, “Leave him alone, stupid.” And I’ve heard all sorts of pecking stories.
Do you have a chicken story?
Today I was a bit insulted when someone informed me that I am a “city girl” playing “country girl.” HMPH!!!
At least they had the gall to say it to my face.
What makes a “country girl” a “country girl”? Should I have been insulted by this comment? How would you have responded?
My definition of defeating the purpose: Exercising for 20 minutes and then eating two packages of rolos. My husband bought me a case of rolos for Christmas. I’m proud to say there are still some left. Maybe one.
What’s your favorite candy?
Hey Grandpa, What’s for supper? Do you remember that on Hee Haw?
Nothing here. You know why? Because I don’t remember to lay out any meat to thaw. Never. I live in the moment. It is so hard for me to think about inconsequential things like supper at 7:30 in the morning. And I don’t like thawing meat in a microwave, it gets all dark brown around the edges. It’s unappealing.
How do you plan your suppers?
Okay, it’s your turn now.
Signed Curious in Cow Country