Won't You Help?

There's a new plague afflicting the world and more specifically the high seas. I'm sure we have all heard of the recent Somali pirate attacks in the Gulf of Aden. You are probably asking yourself, "self, what on earth could cause an everyday, average Jo, day trading, Sunday school attending, Somali fisherman to snap and start taking over ships?" 

The answer is scurvy. That's right. The disease once thought to be eradicated with the consumption of a citrus fruit is back in full force.Every year dozens, literally dozens, of pirates are afflicted with scurvy. With symptoms from fatigue to spongy gums it's no wonder these men snap and develop a taste for eye patches and gold.

With your help we can once again eradicate this disease. By sponsoring a pirate you will not only be sending him a fruit basket but you will also be bettering his life forever.

If you wish, you may even receive a handwritten letter from your pirate (legibility is not guaranteed). The following is an actual letter sent from a pirate to his sponsor:"Are you a woman? I haven't seen a woman in months. Thanks for the f*@#ing fruit basket."

So please, sponsor a pirate today and start receiving inspirational letters of gratitude such as this. Together we can help fight scurvy.

We Have Spirit. Yes We Do!

Yesterday was Easter and therefore the day of the third annual Easter Egg Games. The games consisted of an egg toss, egg relays and a “throw the bunnies into a hole in the box” game which is actually called corn hole. Can we say double entendre?

The photo quality may not be great but I think you get the point. We may look like we’re having fun out there but we don’t play. Obviously we lost the egg toss but rest assured we won the war. OK, that’s not exactly true. I think we came in like seventh.

Now, I hate to be “that person” and bring up performance enhancers but the team who won took home the trophy without having to pony up to a drug test.
In the end my husband and I took home the spirit trophy. I guess you could say we spirited our asses off. After all, isn’t that what Easter is all about?

TGIF...I think

After recently forgetting a friend’s birthday I was forced to yet again deal with a problem I have been stricken with since quitting my old day job. I never know what day it is. And when you think about it, why should I? Most people have a Monday through Friday rhythm that they don’t even have to think about but every day feels like Saturday to me. I don’t have anywhere to be at 7 am except home. My son isn’t old enough to go to school and my work at home is never done so it doesn’t matter what day it is. To make matters worse my husband works a rotating schedule of weekdays and weekends, so no Monday through Friday deal there. I have to say it’s a little hopeless.
In nursing homes there are dry erase boards in all the patient rooms. The staff writes what day it is and who will be caring for the patient that day. It’s a little help in the orientation department. My husband is considering doing this for me and to be honest I don’t think it’s a bad way to wake up. You open your eyes, yawn, stretch and glance at the board. “Today is Monday, April 6, 2009 and your husband is Brantley.” Sounds like a plan. Now if I can just get him to feed me applesauce we’ll be in business.