Trinkets of Thought

Life with the Littles-A lifestyle blog of living with five littles.

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Brain, when should I expect your return?

December 28, 2009 by Maren 4 Comments

***Important to know for this saga: My insurance man’s office is at the end of my street and the busy road it intersects.   He passes by every afternoon after work.***

There once was a gal named Maren.
She lost her brain child-bearin’
Her ducks knew no row.
Her work had no flow,
If only she had smarts for sparin’!

Last week, I was hoping to deliver some homemade bread loaves to a couple of families who have been uber-gracious to our family this past year.  In order to deliver the gifts, I lugged Pierson, the bread, and my wallet to the car. I *momentarily* put the un-children items on the roof of my car while I finagled Pierson into the back seat (note to self: two door cars are NOT for people with kids.) Zippy, also invited on the excursion, was moseying in the yard.

We had previously been unsuccessful in delivering our neighbor’s bread gift, and I noticed them returning home. I quickly ran into the house, grabbed a loaf to share, and delivered their bread.  I helped Zippy in the car and drove away. Halfway to the first family’s house, I realized the bread was M.I.A. I frisked the front seat. No bread. I frisked the back seat. No bread. This initiated a prompt in-the-middle-of-the-road u-turn, to the irritation of local homeowner onlookers.

I sped home. Around the turn in my neighborhood, I swerved to miss an object in the middle of the road. Hmmm….my wallet. I jerked the car to a stop, rescued my wallet and then noticed my insurance man speaking with my neighbor using exaggerated gestures, my bags of bread in hand. I hollered to let him know I was the lunatic for whom he was looking and went to retrieve my bread. At that moment, I became a mind reader. I assured him that the doubts he was having about this particular insured client were indeed legit: I am scatterbrained. I am crazy. And he is my insurance agent. Lucky him.

I had a 2 second self-debate regarding whether or not to deliver the road kill bread to my friends. The 30 second rule (or a little bit extra) was enforced. It’d be fine.

Brain? Where are you? Can I expect your return any time soon?

Moral of this story: Road kill Christmas bread makes nice Christmas gifts. (Better than nothing.)

Below is a picture of the gift we delivered to my insurance agent before leaving town…Well, we attempted to deliver it.  He was off Christmas Eve.  I put it on top of my car to deliver to him later.

Hope your Christmas was merry & your new year hopeful!

To Educate You on Important Matters of Life.

December 4, 2008 by Maren 2 Comments

chawbacon • \CHAW-bay-kun\ • noun
definition: bumpkin, hick

Example Sentence:

Michael has been living in the city for almost a decade, but he’s still as much of a chawbacon as the day he left the farm. (JUST KIDDDDDING, MICHAEL.  BTW: I had his permission to use that sentence because it’s not true…and he never was one, anyway.)

Did you know?

“Chaw” is an alteration of “chew” that is still used in some English dialects, especially in rural areas. Cured pork, or bacon, was a staple of some rural folks’ diets in the past. Since the 16th century, “chaw” has been combined with “bacon” to create a ludicrous name for an uncultured yokel. Over the centuries, the word has lent its delicious dialect flavor to a wide range of publications, but it has become less common in recent decades. Today, city dwellers are as likely as country folk to chow down on bacon, and the word “chawbacon” isn’t often on the lips of either group.

 

FROM M-W.COM

You know me, I love a deal!

November 19, 2008 by Maren 2 Comments

Three lawyers and three engineers were traveling by train to a conference.  At the station, each lawyer bought at ticket whereas the engineers bought only one ticket between them.

‘How are you going to travel on a single ticket?’ asked a lawyer.

‘Wait and watch,’ answered one of the engineers.

When they boarded the train, the lawyers took their seats, but the three engineers crammed into a toilet and closed the door behind them.  Shortly after the train started, the ticket collector arrived.  He knocked on the toilet door and asked, ‘Ticket please.’  The door opened just a crack and a single arm emerged with a ticket in hand.  The ticket collector took it and moved on.  Seeing this, the lawyers decided to do the same thing on the return trip.

So when they got to the station, they bought only one ticket.  To their astonishment, the engineers didn’t buy any. ‘How are you going to travel without a ticket?’ asked one of the perplexed lawyers.

‘Wait and watch,’ answered the engineer.

In the train, the three engineers crammed into a toilet and the three lawyers into another nearby.  Soon after the train started, one of the engineers got out of the toilet and walked to the one where the lawyers were hiding.

He knocked on the door and said, ‘Ticket, please.’

 

Some days I sit and ponder about a posts…what in the world can I write about??? Some weeks provide such dull activity that you would be bored to tears if I gave you a play-by-play.  So, special thanks go to Reader’s Digest for the smile today!

Newsworthy Material

October 17, 2008 by Maren 5 Comments

Sorry for such a serious post today.  My mom sent me this late-breaking news, and I thought it needed to be shared on my blog.  I’ll be back to my normal self by the next blog.

The famous Olympic skier Picabo Street (pronounced Peek-A-Boo) is not just an athlete…. She is now a nurse currently working at the Intensive Care Unit of a large metropolitan hospital. She is not permitted to answer the hospital telephones. It caused too much confusion when she would answer the phone and say, “Picabo, ICU.”

Happy weekend!

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