Since the blizzard of Christmas Eve 2009 has passed and we've survived, I'm focusing on the positives. The negatives include not seeing relatives, having to ignore tradition, and forego watching the kids run and play and scream their fool heads off until they collapse from exhaustion around noon.
The positives: we have snow, and milk, and vanilla and sugar.
Mix 'em together and you get ice cream!
The problem is the proportions of each ingredient. There is no science or true recipe.
I go with this:
One big bowl of snow
Enough milk until the mixture is creamy
Enough vanilla 'til it's a brownish color
Enough sugar 'til it tastes good
There! The perfect recipe for a fast delicious and quickly melting treat for a blistery, blustery day.
Enjoy.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Thursday, December 24, 2009
New Idea for Textophiles (it's a word, I made it up; I made it a word)
My dilemma continues: how to get hubby away from his new addiction of TEXTING.
Dear Lord in Heaven, it feels like my husband is a thirteen year old boy with Nintendo DS spasms that carry over into the texting world. He's lightning quick on the dang thing, I'll give him that. Way too many adventure games over the course of his life.
So -- I've been thinking of an invention to battle the texting thing I am living with.
What if:
Instead of typing, the machine worked with your voice, so that you could speak into it.
And whomever you are chatting with could respond right away. Sure, T9 is helpful sometimes, but how often have you tried to write "me" and ended up with "if?" Changes the whole context of your message. This way, you have no wasted seconds on tapping out messages. (Texting is a bit like Morse code, huh? I hadn't thought of that...)
And with a voice system, inflection and sarcasm could be heard, so there is no miscommunicating, which results in 18 more texts to clear up the confusion.
And instead of LOL, you could actually hear the other person actually laugh! Out loud!
OMG!
Wait a second...
*blink blink*
I think that might be the telephone.
Sweet! I just invented the telephone!!!
Dear Lord in Heaven, it feels like my husband is a thirteen year old boy with Nintendo DS spasms that carry over into the texting world. He's lightning quick on the dang thing, I'll give him that. Way too many adventure games over the course of his life.
So -- I've been thinking of an invention to battle the texting thing I am living with.
What if:
Instead of typing, the machine worked with your voice, so that you could speak into it.
And whomever you are chatting with could respond right away. Sure, T9 is helpful sometimes, but how often have you tried to write "me" and ended up with "if?" Changes the whole context of your message. This way, you have no wasted seconds on tapping out messages. (Texting is a bit like Morse code, huh? I hadn't thought of that...)
And with a voice system, inflection and sarcasm could be heard, so there is no miscommunicating, which results in 18 more texts to clear up the confusion.
And instead of LOL, you could actually hear the other person actually laugh! Out loud!
OMG!
Wait a second...
*blink blink*
I think that might be the telephone.
Sweet! I just invented the telephone!!!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
I Believe I'm a Relic
I think I am the only person on the planet who misses the hand written word.
Could this be true?
I know that technology has accelerated at the speed of light, and I'm doing my best to keep up, I assure you, but here's my concern: I've complained of it before, but does anyone miss personal conversations, the kind with complex sentences and correct grammar? Are we really so short on time that we don't type whole syllables, whole words, but use acrynoyms in everyday speech just to get through a conversation that much more quickly?
If I hear someone so O-M-G in that slow, drawn-out cutesy style one more time, I might actually scream. They don't even realize that they're being "so 1980's" with the whole Valley-girl attitude that they are laughable. And LOL has become a verb phrase? Reallly??
I know that after my grandmothers died I found letters they had written me when I was younger. I feel like I have actual evidence of their existence because I have inked verbage from them. It's priceless. Even the way that they penned their letters evokes images and memories from my childhood. The memories aren't even all happy, pretty ones, but still they are redolent of experiences from my youth, things that I had completely forgotten.
I may sound maudlin, morose maybe.
Perhaps I really am a relic and I should retire to my rocking chair on the front porch and let the world ease on by.
Oh...wait...since when have I had a front porch to sit on, one that was bigger than the exact dimensions of a "welcome" mat so that I could have an actual chair upon which to perch?
Oh, yeah, when I was young. It just really didn't seem like I was that old until I got a text message telling me so. lol (please note the sarcasm, it's difficult to read what with the electronic typing and everything...)
Could this be true?
I know that technology has accelerated at the speed of light, and I'm doing my best to keep up, I assure you, but here's my concern: I've complained of it before, but does anyone miss personal conversations, the kind with complex sentences and correct grammar? Are we really so short on time that we don't type whole syllables, whole words, but use acrynoyms in everyday speech just to get through a conversation that much more quickly?
If I hear someone so O-M-G in that slow, drawn-out cutesy style one more time, I might actually scream. They don't even realize that they're being "so 1980's" with the whole Valley-girl attitude that they are laughable. And LOL has become a verb phrase? Reallly??
I know that after my grandmothers died I found letters they had written me when I was younger. I feel like I have actual evidence of their existence because I have inked verbage from them. It's priceless. Even the way that they penned their letters evokes images and memories from my childhood. The memories aren't even all happy, pretty ones, but still they are redolent of experiences from my youth, things that I had completely forgotten.
I may sound maudlin, morose maybe.
Perhaps I really am a relic and I should retire to my rocking chair on the front porch and let the world ease on by.
Oh...wait...since when have I had a front porch to sit on, one that was bigger than the exact dimensions of a "welcome" mat so that I could have an actual chair upon which to perch?
Oh, yeah, when I was young. It just really didn't seem like I was that old until I got a text message telling me so. lol (please note the sarcasm, it's difficult to read what with the electronic typing and everything...)
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