She corrected Adam
Published 7:06 am Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Echoes from the Loafer’s Club meeting
“So Adam named all the animals?”
“That’s right.”
“What did Eve do?”
“She corrected Adam.”
Driving by the Bruces
I have two wonderful neighbors–both named Bruce–who live across the road from each other. Whenever I pass their driveways, thoughts occur to me, such as: The rule of thumb is that eventually, you will hit it with a hammer.
There are many ways of giving a gift
Years ago, my sister Georgianna and my father bought mother a dress. They did not take the task lightly. They invested much time and effort into finding the perfect dress for my mother. They bought a dress that was much too small for her. Mother needed to return it, but their choice of size was a gift in itself.
At the DMV
I was renewing my driver’s license. The clerk was pleasant and businesslike. She asked if I wanted to be an organ donor. She looked at me as if she had surgical tools behind the counter. Because of her expression, I said, “No.”
From a church basement
I was speaking at a Minneapolis church. Before I was to slobber a bibful, I was privileged to partake in a potluck supper in the church basement.
The man seated next to me was busily shoveling in a third helping of a bean casserole.
“My mother would call you a good eater,” I said, making small talk.
“Eating keeps me physically strong,” he responded. “I’ll need all the strength I have tomorrow.”
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He replied, “I’m an honorary pallbearer.”
If that wall could talk
They were found treasures. A wall in the old farmhouse had pencil marks that documented my upward growth. My mother would stand me against the wall and mark the spot the top of my head had reached. Mother was short and I grew tall. She needed to stand on a chair to get an accurate reading on my height. Seeing those carefully recorded marks brought a lump to my throat. I continue to grow despite straining at gnats. I try to be a better person. I endeavor to be kind and good. It’s difficult to determine if I am measuring up, as my mother is no longer around to gauge my growth.
Those thrilling days of yesteryear
I didn’t walk to school. I rode the school bus. The older I get, the longer that daily ride has become.
From the mailbag
Jenean Mortenson: “My Dad dunked bread and butter in his Kool-Aid.”
Dean Young: “Mad Magazine. Remember those folding pictures where you could bend them in thirds and make a new one–usually of some ridiculous situation? Do you remember when they included a square record with the magazine that really played? It was full of belching. Our woolly bears are mostly black this year but the hickory nut trees are loaded. Does that mean a harsher than usual mild winter?”
Sheryl Young: “My hometown, Hinckley, Ohio, celebrates the return of the turkey vultures with Buzzard’s Day every March 15th. Any pre-March 15th sightings are creagles, a cross between a crow and an eagle.”
Georgia Peterson: “What do a canary and an orange have in common? Neither one can ride a bicycle.”
Kathy Bolin: “I carried on an entire conversation in a bathroom stall with the person next to me only to realize that she was on the phone!”
Ric McArthur: “Ninety percent of every day friction is caused by the wrong tone of voice.”
Nature notes
The house finch was originally a bird of the western United States and Mexico. In 1940, a small number of finches were released on Long Island, New York, after failed attempts to market them as cage birds (“Hollywood finches”). The birds proliferated across the eastern U.S. and southern Canada. House finches were introduced to Oahu from San Francisco prior to 1870. They were abundant on all the major Hawaiian Islands by 1901. The red of a male house finch comes from pigments contained in the food ingested during molt. That is why there are orange or yellowish male house finches. Females prefer to mate with the reddest male available. House finches feed their nestlings solely plant foods, an atypical occurrence in birds. Many birds that are vegetarians as adults feed animal foods to supply their fast-growing young with protein.
Talking to the Holstein
I was talking to the Holstein the other day. The Holstein is a retired milk cow, so she has time to talk. I speculated to the Holstein as to how many people would like to have the opportunity to live their lives over.
The Holstein chewed her cud thoughtfully and said, “No one can go back and make a new start, but anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.”
Meeting adjourned
Praise in public–criticize in private. Be kind.