Knowing of my passion for animals, someone recently asked me if in my formative years I ever thought about becoming a veterinarian.
I'm not sure why that never made it to my "wanna be when I'm grown up" list, but it didn't.
It might have had something to do with the fact that even as a youngster I knew a vet had to be proficient in science and chemistry and lots of stuff like that, none of which was my forte.
I was born and reared to deal with words and music and the like. Throw in a little drama and literature also. But nothing of the scientific for me.
I know it may sound a bit perplexing to hear a newspaper editor wonder about a situation in which a local government is embroiled in controversy, allegations of misconduct and counter-charges between conflicting groups in a city. After all, these shenanigans provide a constant stream of material and a ready source of news stories. But from the viewpoint of a citizen of this fine county, one has to look back at it all and ask, ‘When will it all end in Bryant?’
The other day I listened to some people talking about how the sight of blood nauseates them.
"I just about pass out when I see somebody with a really bad cut that's spurting blood," one person said.
I held my tongue for a time, then I had to jump into the conversation.
"You should have had the ready-for-blood-and-guts-and-anything-else indoctrination that I underwent as a young mother," I said.
That training came via my third child, who knew no fear.
Car trips with kids were a challenge in the
I'm talking about the years when my children were little and the ones that followed for a time.
Specifically, I'm referring to the generations that preceded DVDs in vehicles.
I was in the car recently with my 3-year-old grandson, Lucas, and his mom. While Melissa and I chatted about a number of things, we rarely were interrupted by Lucas.
This is because Lucas, like a lot of privileged children of his generation, rides in a car that offers filmdom on wheels.
One week into 2012 and it begins. The relative calm pond that is 'Saline County Politics' is beginning to show the first ripples of discontent, maneuvering and change. Whether or not the change is necessary or ill-advised matters not. Isaac Newton's Third Law of Motion states, "For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction." As changes are made, one group will see any decision as a step in the right direction. But beware the equal and opposite reaction from those who disagree and feel otherwise.
The Christmas season can be counted on to stir up memories.
Iâ€™m not alone in this. I think itâ€™s probably a pretty universal situation.
When I watch favorite old holiday movies, I do with more than a few lumps in the throat.
But as I think back to days gone by, I always remember a lot of funny things that happened through the years. Thankfully, they tend to offset my weepy recollections, so I can keep on doing the things I must do.
Iâ€™ll never forget the year one of our cats became a Christmas ornament. Literally.
I have had the privilege of attending city council and planning commission meetings in cities throughout Saline County. I have seen the process of government â€śof the people, by the people and for the peopleâ€ť in motion with all its glory. I have also seen the darker, blemished side. I say this not in a derogatory sense but given the nature of the statement, I could see how others may conclude as such. I say it to show there is balance in all things. Conflict is not always a bad thing. Conflict that leads to better ideas is healthful. Conflict that leads to division and mistrust is not.
One of my favorite musicals is â€śCinderella.â€ť
A few fears back, I played the wicked stepmother in the Royal Players production of this Rodgers and Hammerstein jewel. It was my dream role.
Other than the wonderful music, the two sistersâ€™ nastiness is the best part of the play. It typifies how ridiculous sisterly rivalry can be.
I donâ€™t have a sister. I always wanted one and envied families that included several girls. One of my best friends had two. I thought she was the luckiest girl in the world. She would have given either or both of hers to me any day of the week.
He walked along the roadside, scanning the ditches with squinted eye. We were never sure if he ever used sunglasses. The deep creases in his skin, etched outward toward each ear, were not created through moments of introspection or thought. They were earned through years of toil and labor, at least that's what we deduced from watching the grizzled figure we came to know as "The Can Man."
Pass the Smuckerâ€™s, please.
Thatâ€™s a frequent comment at the House of Hollenbeck because homemade jelly doesnâ€™t happen there.
Weâ€™re big fans of Smuckerâ€™s. We also have a close association with the folks at Bama and Welchâ€™s.
This past summer, during one of my visits to the Farmers Market (which I do love) at the Saline County Courthouse square, someone suggested that I purchase some fresh fruit and concoct some homemade jelly.
He might just as well has suggested that I build a 30-story building. This would be just as likely.