I won something! No, not the lottery...if I won the lottery I wouldn't be blogging about it, I'd be collecting it.
Nope, no lottery...but I did win a blogging award. See?
SciFiChick gave it to me. Considering my content of late, I think she was being generous, but I was raised never to look a gift
award horse in the mouth.
As is usually the case with these things, there are some rules. The question is, will I follow them?? Hmm...what to do, what to do...
I guess I'll play nice. For now.
First I'm supposed to tell you seven things that you may not know about me. Wow...umm...I don't know if I have seven things I haven't already blogged about. You already know I drive the crazy train, have two kids, a Someone, and a gracious plenty of cats. You know I'm a singer, a writer, a quilter, a photographer, and a lazy so-and-so. You know I'm Pagan. Huh...what have I got left? This is like writing a bio...and I really don't like writing bios. They give me hives. Ok, ok, enough with the stalling...here goes:
1. Some folks think I don't like dogs. That's not true. I grew up with dogs, and I love 'em. I don't like ill behaved dogs. I also don't want to be the only one cleaning up after or training a dog...so until recently I have refused to entertain the notion that Casa de Crazy could go to the dogs. Now I'm entertaining the notion, but have not begin to implement it yet - Someone loves dogs and I believe he would be a dab hand at dealing with them, but a new baby sort of put a crimp in caninery for a bit.
2. I have a dictionary that weighs more than my daughter. It is one of my favorite books. Someone likes it, too. We are constantly looking things up in it. We are, collectively, deeply weird and wordy.
3. I have been known, on rare occasions (although not in the last few years), to smoke something that is distinctly not tobacco. Shh, don't tell my Mum. Oh, wait...she reads my blog. Dang. I'm an advocate for legalizing said smokey comestible and will happily engage in a reasoned, educated conversation about it but am not interested in propaganda or hyperbole.
4. I am allegedly part New England Indigenous Tribal Person (read: Native American, but don't get me started on that semantic battle), which may explain why I don't like to borrow blankets from strangers.
5. I am an ordained minister. For reals! I can perform marriages and everything!
6. Whenever I'm in a new house, I mentally redecorate it with my stuff.
7. I have always wanted to be a phone, computer, or cartoon character voice. Really. I would love to be a voice-over artist or narrator (Hello, Discovery and Nat Geo channels, are you there??) as well. A gal can dream...
Whew, I'm glad that's over with.
And now I am supposed to pass the award along to fifteen other bloggers. This part's no easier - there are so many good reads out there...if I left you out, it's not 'cause I don't love ya!
In no particular order:
Hermit Jim. He's my kinda guy - warm, personable, intelligent, capable of spell-checking before he posts a blog...and he's practically family since I stole his nephew and brought him to Casa de Crazy to shack up with me!
Mizz Suzy. She's funny. Good grief, is she funny. She makes me laugh. A lot.
Mum. Hey, there was nothing in the rules about nepotism, and I happen to think my Mum is one classy and uber-stylish woman. Also, since usually all I give her is a headache...I figure she's due an award. Too bad there's not a cash prize along with it...sorry, Mum...
Vodkamom. I adore her. You, too, can adore her. Go on, try it...it's easy, and you'll live longer...
Mizz Rachel. Sister of my soul. Poet, mama, compassionate, intelligent, and one of the people I would very much like to meet in person some day.
Mizz Treesong. The woman is the epitome of perseverance. If introducing an art program to her community doesn't define style, I dunno what does.
Someone. What, you thought I wouldn't? Whoof...he's got some crazy style, and he's all sorts of sexy (not that I'm biased) and funny and sweet. Go look, you know you wanna.
Mizz Rene. Classy lady in the classic sense.
Kit. I adore her whole family.
Is that fifteen, yet? No? Huh...ok, then...
Friar. Ohmuhgoodness, his cartoons are hysterical (in the best way).
Mizz Marcy. She's so glamorous!
Pearl. She makes taking the bus sound
like a good reason to stay home so cool.
Busted Knuckles. He uses grown-up words...lots and lots of grown-up words. I adore him.
Aunt Becky. She calls her kids "crotch parasites". What's not to love?
Mizz Suzan, who isn't blogging any more, dang it...but I'm giving it to her anyway.
Whew...done. I'm worn slap out...time for a nap. What're y'all reading, these days?