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Showing posts from December, 2017

Memories and Mistakes

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This morning's sermon at church was about mistakes. Sometimes, good things come out of them, of course. Sometimes not. The one thing I tell my daughter is that if you make a mistake, just own it. If you've wronged someone, apologize (even if you don't think you're entirely at fault). I'm reflecting on two recent mistakes I've made, and kicking myself quite a bit. We have a roller rink in town (well, there's a church that sort of doubles as a roller rink, but there's only one "real" roller skating joint that I know of). The rink gets abysmal Google reviews. A lot of people around town have a lot of anger aimed directly at the owner. As far me, I know the rules of the establishment so I basically just abide by them. You have to put your gear in a locker. They will give you part of your change in quarters just so you can't say you didn't have quarters for the locker. I'm sure that they've had people (on skates) trip over errant

After you get a tattoo, I recommend getting hit by an uninsured motorist

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My mom flew in for a visit on December 7th. She was here until the 16th. The first few days of the visit went swimmingly. We attended a festive Holiday Pops concert at a local theater on Friday. The next morning, she and I headed to my favorite (well, only) tattoo artist lady. We got matching tattoos of Bobby Shafto from the Richard Scarry Mother Goose book. When we got to the shop, I opted to go first. I wanted to get it done so that I could run to a nearby shop and do a little Christmas shopping while my mom was getting inked. About an hour and a half after I climbed into the orange tattoo chair, Bobby Shafto came to life on my left ankle, forever waving to his love on the shore as he embarks on his sea voyage. Then, it was my mom's turn. She got situated in the orange chair and Tara got started with the needle. The look on my mom's face put me in a bit of a panic. Clearly she was not expecting this level of discomfort. I was worried that she'd bail on the process an

Bullies

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I keep hearing about anti-bullying campaigns in communities and at schools all over the country. Some schools have even initiated "sit by me" programs to make sure that no one is ostracized in the lunchroom. Schools claim to have "zero tolerance" policies in effect. Awareness of bullying is at an all-time high. You know what, though? I honestly think bullying is worse than ever. I was bullied in middle school but at least I could go home in the afternoon and be done with it until the next day. These days, social media allows kids to engage in bullying behaviors 'round-the-clock. One of my nephews is heavily bullied. He's in 8th grade. Why is he a target? Who knows. My nephew is kindhearted and impossibly good-looking. He's got green eyes that melt his mama's heart (his crazy Aunt Claudia's heart, too!) He's tall and thin. He loves legos and is a good brother to his other siblings. He's very bright and has developed a passion for the