Back from Alabama. Sorry, no banjo.

I had an amazing four-day weekend with a dear friend in Alabama. I have much to share, from the cheese extravaganza to the vampire ballerina, but I'm exhausted and buried with work and life and other hazards right now. We hired two staffers this week, thank God! (Cue the applause and fireworks.) That means I can become one person again instead of three. Starting next Monday! One of the hires is a photographer I worked with at The Lubbock Avalanche-Journal. We made quite a team back then, and I'm looking forward to working with her again.

That's it for now. Pray for me, friends. I'm tired, body and soul.

Now who can resist a yodeling pickle?

If that doesn't strike your fancy, what about an Angry Mob Action Set? Better yet, try a Horrified B-Movie Victims action set. Too pedestrian for you? There's always the Albert Einstein Action Figure.

Next time I'm in Seattle, I'm going to have to stop by Archie McPhee. It's a novelty store that bills itself as "slightly less disappointing than other companies." I stumbled across a Travel Channel feature on the wacky enterprise, and I couldn't stop laughing. I know where I'm doing my Christmas shopping next year!

Here are some other gadgets "made by pixies," who obviously have lots of free time and a quirky sense of humor.

     

     * Cow acupuncture model

     * Gummy haggis

     * Pickle-pults (think catapults)

     * Mr. Bacon vs. Monsieur Tofu

     * Beef bandage assortment (including bacon strip bandages)

     * Commie mustache and beard set

     * Fiber optic mullet wig

     * Shroud of Turin Winky Jesus Card

There are too many great ones to list. Go check out their Web site, "where pickles yodel and lederhosen run free." And before you click your way over there, take a gander at one of their commercials. Who knew garden gnomes were so versatile?

Tapping the Spirit of Writing

Tonight this spoke to my weary writer's soul. Maybe it's time to go sweep behind the couch. 

"I, too, had a pen rolling about somewhere — the seldom-used, the reluctantly taken-up pen of a sailor ashore, the pen rugged with the dried ink of abandoned attempts, infinite reluctance, and put off suddenly till next day — till next week, as like as not! The neglected, uncared-for pen, flung away at the slightest provocation, and under the stress of dire necessity hunted for without enthusiasm, in a perfunctory, grumpy worry, in the "Where the devil IS the beastly thing gone to?" ungracious spirit. Where, indeed! It might have been reposing behind the sofa for a day or so. Or it might even be resting delicately poised on its point by the side of the table-leg, and when picked up show a gaping, inefficient beak which would have discouraged any man of literary instincts. But not me!"

— Joseph Conrad, 

Excerpted from A Personal Record, republished in 

The Spirit of Writing: Classic and Contemporary Essays 

          Celebrating the Writing Life

As I lay melting...

A local coffee shop gives poets the stage every Thursday night, and I was lucky enough to stumble into some vivid, enchanting and often hilarious readings last week. Some classic, some original, some in rhyme, others beating out their own strange rhythm. It reawakened me to the power of poetry to capture the essence of a moment. In honor of Waco hitting the 102-degree mark today, I give you a few lines on summer from Robert Louis Stevenson.

Summer Sun

By Robert Louis Stevenson

Great is the sun, and wide he goes

Through empty heaven with repose; 

And in the blue and glowing days

More thick than rain he showers his rays.

Though closer still the blinds we pull

To keep the shady parlour cool,

Yet he will find a chink or two

To slip his golden fingers through.

The dusty attic spider-clad

He, through the keyhole, maketh glad;

And through the broken edge of tiles

Into the laddered hay-loft smiles.

Meantime his golden face around

He bares to all the garden ground

And sheds a warm and glittering look

Among the ivy's inmost nook.

Above the hills, along the blue,

Round the bright air with footing true,

To please the child, to paint the rose,

The gardener of the World, he goes.

Experiencing 3-D with Mamma mia

Mom and I had intended to see the new musical Mamma Mia this weekend, but the show sold out before we got to the front of the line. So we opted for the 3-D Brendan Fraser flick, Journey to the Center of the Earth. Despite being a child during the pinnacle of the 3-D  era, this was my first experience with three-dimensional filmography. I expected a great vehicle for Kraft product placement (It's the cheesiest!), but I was pleasantly surprised by a decent story line and solid acting. Not to mention very cool in-your-face graphics that made viewers duck and dodge tentacles, dinosaurs and glow-in-the-dark birds. This is one kids movie that the adults will enjoy, too. And if we're really lucky, a few moviegoers will crack their own copy of the Jules Verne classic. 

And no more cardboard spectacles with one red lens and one blue. The shades are much trendier these days. Still, having to wear shades on top of my regular glasses made me glad we were in a dark theater. My bespectacled readers will have to double up, too. Ever wonder what a 3-D movie looks like without the glasses? Much like watching a movie without your prescription glasses. Sure-fire recipe for a killer headache. Click the 3-D link above for a brief explanation of how the technology works. Coming to theaters soon: a 3-D CGI movie about flies on a journey into space. 

Another blast from the past? (Pardon the reference, Brendan.) I heard a piece on NPR this week about John Waters, the man behind Hairspray. Somehow I've made it 31 years without hearing of Odorama, which is how he filmed the 1981 movie Polyester. That's right. Scratch 'n' sniff cards that let you experience the full-bodied grossness of gym socks, dead fish and assorted nefarious bodily odors. It was an interesting interview. Learn all about Smellovision here.

That's really going to leave a mark

I'm not limping as much today, but I'm getting lots of sympathetic looks from passers-by because the bruises get uglier every day. I'm just waiting for someone to hand me a card for a battered women's shelter.

On a positive note, we're moving ahead with the interview process at work. I'm crossing my fingers and hoping I'll get some backup before the semester begins. If I have to go through another year like the last one, I may throw myself down the staircase again. This time on purpose.

Musings from the stairwell floor

Today's lesson, boys and girls, is brought to you by the letter B.

Balance has never been my strong suit. And that's in any context, whether we're talking physical equilibrium or the ephemeral balance between work and play, bliss and despair. I tend to be a woman of extremes. So I'm not surprised that I found myself yesterday afternoon at the bottom of a flight of concrete stairs. With my poor sense of balance, I always figured I'd one day go stair-diving; I just figured I'd be 75 and end up breaking a hip. Instead, I was 31 and clipped the edge of a dolly on the nearby rail. I went head-first down the staircase, a series of thuds punctuating each slam of my flesh on the unforgiving concrete. 

I am bruised aplenty and did quite a number on my ankle, but aside from stiffness and tenderness I'm not too worse for the wear. And my skin matches the lovely teal blouse I was wearing yesterday. (I do so like to blend.) The irony is that I had my back X-rayed not two hours before I took the spill. I think the accident actually knocked something back into place.  

I am reminded of when my car did a couple of 360s on Interstate 20 after I swerved to avoid a tire in the road. When it happened, I couldn't think about other people driving 70 mph behind me. All I could do is mentally chant: Don't flip the car. Don't flip the car. Don't flip the car. I managed to keep the car from flipping, and God protected us all on the interstate that day. I did a couple of donuts and slid harmlessly off the side of the highway into a ditch. Not a scratch on me, the car or the passers-by. In yesterday's embarrassing spill, I managed to protect my head and neck, letting my arms and legs take the brunt of the impact. Another deliverance from serious harm, thank God.

So what lessons did I learn from this?

1. Stair-diving isn't as fun as it looks. I should have read the rules first.

2. You can't will yourself upright when you're already at a 90-degree angle.

3. When circumstances pull your feet out from under you and there's nowhere to go but down, protect your head and let your body take the lumps. Bruises eventually heal.

If anybody asks about the beating I took, I'll tell them the truth. I got into a fight with some concrete stairs, but only one of us got up and walked away. That makes me the winner.