The Rulez 2 Speaking Goode

First, let me preface this short blogpost by saying that, up until sixish years ago, I used to struggle to be sure which your/you’re warranted an apostrophe. Even now, I have to break up the contraction if I’m to feel completely at ease. Occasionally, someone will comment on a picture on Facebook, and because I also commented – six years ago – I receive a notification. Of course I’m curious, so I click the link, and there, for all THE WORLD to see, is my comment punctuated (pun intended) with errors. For half a second I consider leaving it be. Then I click the edit button, and finally, phew, I can breathe again.

Second, if I were to rate myself on a scale from one to ten, one being you are completely illiterate, ten being Grammar Girl and Dictionary.com follow you on Twitter, I would put myself at around . . . seven point four. (The point four because, thanks to a nifty-rifty trick, I recently learned how to use whom correctly, like, eighty percent of the time – WUT!?)

And third: due to the nature of this subject, I have second guessed and overthought every sentence I’ve written, paying painstakingly close attention to every single letter, wanting to be super-extra-positive sure that it contains ZERO errors. Which means, there’s probably a bunch.

So sue me, whydon’tcha.

All of this to say, if you happen to have a rap sheet chockfull of wordcrimes, it’s OK. At one time or another, we have all felt the dripping cold chill of realizing, yes, absolutely: you should have remembered of never follows could, should, or would. But hey, you see this right here (                           ) ?It’s a safe space, and you and I are in it.

So sit back, relax, and let Weird Al take you’re your Wednesday up a notch!

Just One Little Lette

So sorry about that wonky last post. I’m trying out this new media system called Hootsuite. Have you heard of it? Basically it’s the universal remote to your browser. You pin it at the top, and if ever there’s something you want to share with the public, Hoosuite is connected to your blog(s), your Facebook, and your Twitter. Also, you can schedule when you want the post, tweet, alert to go live. Pretty sweet, huh?

Oh . . . Hootsuite. I GET IT!

No, probably no connection there. And in case you were thinking to yourself “Wow, Cara’s really in the know,” let me walk over needle in hand and burst that little thought bubble. Like everything else that’s super cool and newfangled, my husband found Hootsuite in his little bag of tricks. If you’re interested, there’s a very brief video that explains how to use Hootsuite here.

Okay, onto what I meant to be posting about.

Have you seen these? Book covers with one letter missing? (Hence the missing letter in my post title; didn’t want you to think I was getting careles. <— see what I did there?)

I’m fairly easy to amuse and quick to laugh at silliness, but seriously, these really are terrifically clever!

 

a

 

b

 

d

 

c

 

e

 

g

 

h

 

j

 

k

 

m

So you know I had to try and come up with one. I don’t have the time – nor the ability – to create a graphic to go along with it but how about . . . . . . .

THE GIRL WITH THE EARL EARRING

Hah! Can you see it? Instead of a “pearl,” a tiny earl swings from her lobe, Indiana Jones-style.

a1

Okay, your turn. Go!

 

 

 

Original Source here

 

I don’t know.

Well, hello.

I hope whatever timezone from where you’re reading this, life is serving you up equal parts beauty and beast.

This post is going to be about writing; it’s also about life. It’s about writing and life. If either of these interest you, please, do read on.

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The One That Will Never Get Away

10 Years. Ten of them – IN A ROW. It’s not a little mind boggling when I really stop to think about it. Other than exist, I’ve never done anything for 10 years straight. Well, all right; I’ve brushed my teeth and shaved my legs, but only to avoid the unfortunate consequences caused by not doing those things. Which are, of course, wookie legs and gingivitis.

On May 22nd of this year my husband and I celebrated 10 years of marriage. He came home with a bouquet roses, a juicy fillet and asparagus, and a bottle of champagne I sucked on until the very last drop slithered down my gullet. He also got me a little something, which turned out to be a lottle something, because I am easily delighted and slightly manic and tend to get excited and make a VERY BIG deal about little things. Done well, they’re better than big things, I think.

He bought a dozen bags of Skittles, in a variety of flavors, then separated them – one by one – into mason jars, creating his own “special blends.”

I’m not going to lie. He knocked this one outta the friggin’ park. Not only are they pretty to look at, a confection of color, jars of art, but — SKITTLES. Yum.

skittles

We celebrated the day by staying home, drinking the whole bottle of champagne, and watching Jimmy Fallon clips on YouTube. It was fabulous. We will do BIG celebrating this summer when we road-trip-it to San Francisco for TEN days! One for every year. That wasn’t intentional, but I rather like it; it’s fitting and feels right.

But to be honest, a decade ago, as I waited for the pastor come collect me and my entourage, Canon in D Minor wafting up the staircase, I wasn’t sure I would ever see ten years. Most brides are blushing and glowing and flicking scepters are their poor indentured bridesmaids doing everything from blotting spackled lips to waving thuribles to ward off evil spirits. I was calm, serene even. Frigid as my feet were, I knew I would say “I do.” It’s true I love a good spectacle every now and again, but my wedding, a 15k affair, wasn’t the time for one. I would marry my husband because I told him I would, and because he was a good man that would love me and take care of me. And I would do the same. For how long – that was the question. My heart was a mess and there were tears in my eyes; tears my guests mistook for tears of joy, as I glided down the staircase, smiling on cue, aware of the camera capturing what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I dutifully took my place beside my fiancé. A broken girl in a stunning white dress, I took his hands.

“We are gathered here today . . .”

The next thing I knew, ten years had passed. I decided to write my husband, Michael, a letter.

 

10th

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The Goods

It’s day 11 (actually it’s day 12, but I’m a slacker and have fallen behind) of the 30 Day Poetry Challenge, and guess what? When they said it would be a “challenge,” turns out they meant that it would be challenging.

Who knew!

Originally I intended not to spend any more than 5 to 10 minutes on these posts, but as they have progressively grown more challenging, I have been inclined to rise to the challenge. Which looks like me putting my forehead in my hand and grinding my teeth whilst I attempt to be clever and creative and Grand Canyon deep. I’m not sure if I have succeeded, but I am loving these prompts and I wanted to share today’s with you.

 

Happy Saturday/Sunday, friends!

 

Day 11 – Write a list poem.

vintage_housewife_cook

Tips and suggestions for the handling and dispensing of virtues and other savories

~

Store kindness and mercy in reliable tupperware (nothing worse than stale charity)

Prepare and deliver intentions on the same day (possibly doesn’t age well)

Place humor at eye level and within arm’s reach (perspectives will clarify or conceal)

Poke theories and assumptions with a sharp truth (might still be gooey in the center)

Launder patience and keep folded in the linen closet (this will behoove you when unexpected guests arrive)

Begin each day with a bowl gratitude (otherwise you will forget to eat it)

Measure responsibilities for each day only (tomorrow is finicky and fickle)

If not on your person, peace should be kept somewhere safe and secret (I assure you this is for everyone’s benefit)

Rinse, rinse, rinse (rinsing is key to avoiding moods and attitudes gone bad)

Only serve opinions when the harvest is ripe (when in doubt, give it one more day)

Wisdom will keep for ages (but if you don’t share it then people will be none the wiser)

Wait twenty minutes before serving hurt feelings (additionally, running emotions beneath cool water reduces the risk of future cuts)

Look at all insights beneath a magnifying glass (this helps determine if they’re genuine or fake)

Be certain to monitor good deeds (they can spoil)

Generosity is like a tree: give it lots of water and plenty of sunshine and it will produce the sweetest fruit

Grace (give it prodigiously, and don’t be embarrassed to take some for yourself)