Happy Birthday Baby

A little late, but this is your life.
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Reflecting on Giving Thanks

It’s 2 am, I’ve been awake (again) and getting stuff ready for the last 3 hours. Watched 2 episodes of Numb3rs, tore apart 5 loaves of bread, cut up 3 sweet potatoes and 3 apples, and one bunch of celery, got one dish in the oven cooking for tomorrow. Scratch that, for today. Planned menu: Shepherd’s Pie, Savory Apple-Sweet Potato Bake, Green Beans Almondine, Mixed Vegetables in Cheese Sauce, Gran’s dressing, Martinelli’s Apple Cider, and Pumpkin Pie for dessert. (I’ll put some recipes on the site somewhere) Planned guests: me and Alena. Kaitie may show up, not going to count on it. If she does, we’ll have Cranberry Surprise – her recipe.
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Regarding Magpie.

First – twitter is unique in that it IS okay to advertise – in a sense. Think about @zappos or all the real estate people. Travel agents. The difference is, when someone needs something, they post, they INVITE a sales pitch. This gives a smart marketing company or person the opportunity to jump in and offer services. Hopefully by this time they’ve built up some “cred” by being real, interacting in ways other than just being a sales bot.

Second – I’ve got someone with magpie in their stream. Granted they’re not anyone I follow faithfully, they’re just there, hidden in my low priority stream of tweetdeck. But that advertising? Annoying. I’m ready to block him. It fits right in with those people who I follow that immediately ask me to subscribe to their blog, or buy their product.

If I want it, I’ll find you. Build a connection and when I need it, you’ll be top-of-mind. That’s how twitter works, and how advertising is evolving. Stop with the shove-it-down-our-throats advertising please.

originally posted as a comment on John Chow’s website

Te Amo Abuelita

gran-kissing-alena So much I would like to say, so much I really can’t figure out how to say. This is a hard post to write. Doesn’t seem like it’s possible that a year has already gone by. We keep finding pieces of you in our world: stickers, letters, cards, handwritten recipes, blankets made, memories. I know that you were not happy in this world anymore. Losing mom broke your heart, I firmly believe that.  I wish you had been able to see the baby as she is now. You would have loved her.
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Eep! I got Tagged.

Someone tagged me when I wasn’t looking! My bad for not keeping up with my posts. And I’ll have to figure out how to do the links oh my!

The rules are: 1. Link to the person or persons who tagged you. 2. Post the rules on your blog. 3. Write six random things about yourself. 4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them. 5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog 6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

1. I spent a bithrday in a cast. What really sucked, we still had my party. At the beach. I think I was like 9 and I was a clumsy kid. I grew out of it, really. Except for the weak ankles that are the remnants of the clumsy childhood. I’d twisted my ankle so bad that summer the doctor put me in a walking cast. So for my birthday, I sat on the beach and watched my guests play in the water.

2. I almost went into the Navy. Had it all planned out, wanted to go into linguistics. By the time I graduated I’d taken 2.5 years of French, a year of Spanish (with a background in it), and a sign-language class. I was stoked. Took the ASVAB, scored really high: in computers. Well doh, I was a geek. So the Navy thing, never happened.

3. I’m a published poet! Well in the High School paper, but hey.  And I even found a copy of it recently.

4. I love chocolate. I love ice cream. I hate chocolate ice cream.

5. I have never seen Star Wars. As a Trekkie, it seemed to campy for me.

6. When I was born (we have pictures) I was the 5th generation still alive. Grandma Nana died at the ripe old age of 98. or was it 103? Sadly, of those 5 generations, I am the only one left. So now I guess I have to live to 103 to make up for it.

Now for the tagging, hope it works.

write from home
Whispering in Silence