All is not as it seems

Hello, Friday Fools! 

 

Thanks for putting up with last week's Friday Tomfoolery.  The more people I told that story to, the more I got worked up.  Then I sat down to write 🤨 It's funny how that happens.  Not the writing, the getting worked up bit.  Initially, I wondered why now?  It's been a year.  Let it go, says the pot to the kettle.  One thing I should've mentioned is we've actually had people say they "love it."  I'm not blowing sunshine up your skirt, either--Chief can vouch for me because he was there.  A new neighbor pulled over when we were getting the mail to tell us this.  All this this to say, our mailbox seems to be a very polarizing object.  🤷🏻‍♀️

This week's Friday Tomfoolery is a mash-up.  My novel is getting ready to be sent off.  Which means my thinking mind has been very busy stirring the pot.  My week has been filled with my mind chasing after me with a knife, trying to stab me with old wounds and stories.  I'm pretty sure it was trying to poison me the week prior.  I think that means I need to give it something else to do and start writing Jimmy's story--he's Charlie's brother, who's the hero of The Reluctant Bandit.  It also means that I'm doing something I have great fears and concerns about--I'm having my professional photo taken today.  It's like school picture day only ten times worse.  Heidi's awesome--I've watched her grow as a photographer and she makes me laugh 😁  She's an all-around great person.  It's just that I'm the one who blinks, has her mouth wide open (no surprise there, right?), and is carrying Felix's not-so-magic bag of insecurities (it's heavy by the way).  So that's giving my mind a bountiful banquet.

On that note, here's a smorgasbord of oddities for you this week.  For your pondering pleasure.  Hit reply and let me know what your thoughts are or if you'd like to add to my list.  This is totally off-the-cuff because I've got an emotional hangover (hint: the previous paragraph was an insecurities seek and find + emotions are rough, and apparently I wasn't doing them well this week). 

Here we go:

Is it normal for a dog to love napkins?  So much so that stealing and eating them as if they were a delicacy is a full-time job.

Why do dogs howl at firetrucks?  Mournfully howl.  Does the sound hurt their ears or does it activate something in their brain that begs them to return a call of their own?  I think about this one a lot.  I'm too lazy to research it.  Or, maybe I have and forgotten like the next question...

How many trees does it take to make an orange grove?  I actually looked that one up, but didn't find anything satisfactory.  At least, nothing I can remember.  I'm sure there's an association that has an exact number you need to have before you can join.  I'm thinking along the lines of casual trees, just hanging out together in someone's yard.  Can someone have an actual grove in their yard?  A regular yard, not some sort of farm-like property.

If you were a horse, what kind would you be?  I actually had a thoughtful and slightly tongue-in-cheek conversation about that this week.  I can't remember what kind of horse Helen said she was (it was fancy and all that).  However, I remember that I said I was more like a draft horse (because I'm strong and sturdy).  Then Clydesdales were brought up and I thought, I'm not big and majestic like that, so I decided that I was probably more like a donkey, stubborn.  But then I thought I'm not small and cute, so Mule--not a horse, not a cute donkey.  That was satisfying in an odd way, too.  I'm a hybrid of sorts.  Helen thought I was more like a carriage horse that drives people around the park.  I'm still not sure what that means, which leaves me with this bit that still puzzles me from about 4-5 years ago...

I'm having a conversation with a very upset coworker.  Our supervisor at the time took issue with her classroom management and told her to observe another instructor's class.  He was what you call the man about town.  Everyone loved him and he was "cool."  He's a really nice guy.  (However, I'm thinking her issue with him was he didn't have very many fails...)  This woman said to me that he (the one she was supposed to observe) is like the "cool uncle," going on to mention another instructor who was like the "cool aunt," and I'm (the coworker) like the "strict mom."  Okay, I suppose I could buy that.  You can see where this is going, right?  I stupidly ask, "Well then, what am I?"  Her response?  "You're like the trophy wife."  👊🏼 I can't even.  I don't even know what she meant by that and, once again, I didn't get a good explanation.  I asked what she meant and she hedged.  We got along, but I can't say I took this well.  Clearly, it's here so many years later.  {insert me slowly moving my open hand, straight arm across the expanse of the room--imploring my people, I do not understand} My whole person feels insulted.  Chew on that.

A final, last minute addition to this list to "chew on" (because I write Tomfoolery while the kids are at tennis clinic).  When I picked them up today, Chia said to me (jokingly) that he "knows what he's going to do with his life"--he's going to own a banana farm.  Long story, but I got history lesson on the Banana Republic and he told me all about the "bananagins" 🍌 that created this republic.  His word and he doesn't read this newsletter or my blog.  I'm crying, bananagins.  

 

Alrighty, then.  Hope you are well and that you find something funny, curious, or thought-provoking to brighten your days.

Take care!

~Ami

 

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