Bleeping bleepity bleep

Found here

There were two things my parents might say that could make the hair stand up on my arms. One scenario involves Mother in the sewing room at the back of the house, hovering over her sewing machine. Perhaps she made a mistake in her sewing, or more likely, her old Singer machine had eaten up the thread, or the needle had broken. "Curses!" she would say with considerable vitriol. That would make me disappear from the room in a hurry. That is what Mother said when she was outraged. The other time she would do this was sometimes when she was trying to style her hair before going to church. Mother, poor Mother, has always been incredibly impatient with her hair. Typically, she would sleep on pink sponge curlers, then take them out after Sabbath breakfast. There she would be in the bathroom, after all of us had finished getting ready for church, trying to get her hair to behave. Since it wouldn't conform to the picture in her head of how she wanted to look, she'd begin raking through it with her hairbrush. Of course, that would make it bushy and wild. "Oh...curses!" she'd explode, slamming her hairbrush down on the counter top. We'd all head for the car to wait for her to come out, hair askew. It never crossed our minds to laugh--she was white hot.

This was the way we felt the few times when we heard Daddy say with the strongest passion, "Jew-dass pa-reest!" We'd freeze, then try to disappear just to get away from his fury. He wouldn't hurt us, just explode and stomp around. But he only did that when he was at the height of his element. The other thing he'd say that made me hold my breath was, "What the Sam Hill?" or his incredulous, "What in the cat hair?!"

I ask you, who is Judas Priest and where is Sam Hill, and of what significance is cat hair? I don't know the origin of these sayings, but country folk used to say some pretty funny things. If this was as bad as the language got, it really wasn't that bad at all. But it was funny.

There were other things that I heard people say when they were angry. Nana used to exclaim, "By Cramp!" when she was upset. Great-grandfather used to say, "Gee Rudney!" when something of note happened.
"Gads!" "Gah!" or "Guy!" were other comments that always make me chuckle. My friend, who grew up on a farm in Tennessee drawls out, "Hwhat in tar?!" while others say, "what in tarnashun?" And a shirt-tail relative used to say, "Great Day in the mornin!" An elderly man whom I used to care for used to say, "Good night shirt!" if he saw something that defied explanation.
Mother tells of an old boyfriend she had in New York City back in the 40s who used to say, "Holy jump up and sit down!" Mother would go to pieces laughing. "Jumping Jehoshaphat!" conjures up a hilarious mental image, as does "Holy Nellie!" and "Great Scott!" My sister's, "What the blazes?!" cracks me up.
The British say things that to our American ears are quite hilarious, but to them mean really bad things. Sometimes it makes one laugh just to hear anger expressed with an accent. My friend Betty used to say with exasperation, "My giddy auhnt!" with great effect. And my cousin's grandmother used to exclaim, "Mercy me, I do pray!"
My Australian friend used to use the qualifier, "flogging" in front of anything that he wanted to emphasize: "The flogging door was locked!" This used to double me up with laughter, which annoyed him more.
Then there is my dear cousin who exclaims, "Oh, forevermore!" Daddy's description of an irksome element as being "consarned" or his hasty comment, "Confound it!" used to make me want to laugh. But he said these in the heat of the moment, when a laugh would be seen as defiance. So I have chortled to myself for years over his, and other such euphemistic expletives.
I wonder where some of these hilarious comments come from. For now, they are a mix of warm memories and laughter.

Waiting for babies

Found here

Sam and I have wanted to get a dog for a long time now. The house is just too quiet without having little wiggly, furry bodies buzzing around us. Otis is good but only so far as his feline dignity allows him to move past proper decorum. So we thought maybe we'd get a puppy. After sifting through all the breeds available, and trying to decide what our miniscule yard could provide for exercise opportunities, we ruled out Great Danes (very sadly, I might add) or any other large breed of dog. But we came across Cockapoo dogs: a cross between a Cocker Spaniel and a small size poodle. Poodles, as you may know, are the most intelligent of all dog breeds. They also do not shed and are lovely little dogs. But a bit too fru fru for me. I will not be the type of pet owner that buys little matching sweaters for dog and owner, or who paints their nails pink. I would like an intelligent yet loyal and fun-loving dog. I've always wanted to have a schnauzer, but Sam thinks they look like mean little, yappy dogs. He's turned off by their eyebrows and beards. What about a schnoodle? He doesn't like that, either. Then we came across these little dogs.

Found here

One of my students has a 3-month old cockapoo that is all black and had been enjoying long sleepy naps in her satchel (in my class!) I didn't even know she had this puppy until one day it whimpered and her cover was blown. I called Sam right away at work and asked him to drop by my class on his way home. If I could just get him to hold one, it would be all over. I did, and it was.

That very night he called the same breeder that my student's dog came from and put our name on the list to be notified when they arrived.

But how could we get a puppy only to leave it alone for 9 hours at a time? One of my concerned students suggested that we do what she did: buy two of them and they will keep each other company. Terrific idea. So we are on the waiting list for a copper colored puppy and a black or brindle puppy. We hear that the females are possessive and temperamental, so both will be male. Sam's girls are ecstatic that they will have puppies to cuddle when they visit, and we are too. Especially when the breeder called to tell us that they will begin the breeding process next month and we should have our puppy ready to bring home no later than mid-July. These dogs make excellent therapy animals. Perhaps I will get mine and put them through obedience training for a year, as is required, and then have them join me in therapy. My student took her puppy to a school (with the principle's permission) and worked with a little boy who had quit talking due to some kind of distress at home. When Meli climbed into his lap, he started talking to her and petting her, even asking questions about what kind of dog she was, etc. He was an entirely different child. I think this might be a great use for a dog, in addition to cheering our hearts.

Now while we wait, I'm thinking about puppy names. I always wanted a Great Dane named Fiona, (roll your eyes, Sam!) but that will not happen until we have a house in the country at retirement. For now, Baxter, Buoso, and Fritz sound like good possibilities. What do you think?

Moto perpetuo

This quarter has been almost more than I could bear. Honestly, as I look back, I wonder how I've managed.
It all began when some students whom I am supervising decided that they weren't going to teach an online course at another university. They decided not to do it on the morning the class began. Guess who got caught holding the bag and is teaching it now? I was beside myself for about 10 minutes, before I realized that if I didn't get with it, I'd be behind. So far, so good.
But that is only the beginning. A couple months ago I was asked to write two chapters for a book that is coming out of Andrews University Press. It is about social issues and the way the church can respond to them. I chose two topics that I have some clinical interest in: female circumcision, and prostitution. The goal was to have them written by the end of December. However, it was soon apparent that I wouldn't have time to get to it during December, even though I only took 2 days off during Christmas break (which was no break at all).
You guessed it: I got an extension from the editor until January 31st. One chapter was co-authored, so I cranked out the changes and got it sent in right away. The other chapter though, had one week in which it had to be written. I wrote from 6:30 Sunday morning until 4:45 a.m. on Monday morning. I hope not to do that again anytime soon. I'm sure that I'll have to revise some of it after the editor reads it. Then I spoke Wednesday evening at the church for an hour and a half, about relationships and longevity. I was so exhausted that all inhibition slipped away and I acted like a wind up clown. People were roaring with laughter and shouting out answers to me as we went along. I think it went okay but I didn't recognize myself in my delivery. I think it was that I was just so very tired.
Today I hosted Medical Family Therapy Grand Rounds, and provided breakfast for everyone who attended. Then I had a conference with my research team at another university before taking a student to lunch so we could talk about a paper she's written and plan another one that we're co-authoring. Then I rushed home to clean up and cook for our company tonight.
On Wednesday I will address the university body at our weekly chapel. Do I know what I'm going to say? No. So I will have to work on that this week.
On top of all of this, I have been really having a hard time teaching one of my classes about health and illness in families. Why? Because three clinical psychology doctoral students sit in the class and they stare at me unflinchingly through the entire 3 hour course. I've never had anything like it! They rarely write any notes, and they don't look bored or engaged. It is disconcerting, and has put me in knots. So I've had trouble trying to do the mind over matter thing and just teach as if they aren't staring at me. (The learning culture is quite different in their department. We tend to be warm and personable and they are more remote and formal. I'm just not used to it). So I've put all kinds of extra time into developing lectures that might move them to respond more. I'm not convinced that I have figured it out, but at this point I'm planning just to teach and they can take it or leave it (I hear through the grapevine that they like it, so that is a relief).
Oh, and did I mention that my computer is trying to crash? The university ordered a new one for me, but in the meantime I'm enduring bouts of pinkish coloration, a jiggly screen, blotchy black blobs, and wavy wrinkles zipping across the screen. I've been using a loaner computer from the department but I quickly found that I can't access wireless with it. My documents are on my crashing computer, so I have to keep that one nearby. Then, in order to show slides for class I have had to use Sam's computer. So off I go to school with three computers in tow. Ridiculous.
With all of this going on I feel like I'm ready to drift into a coma. Is it any wonder that I am thrilled to welcome the Sabbath to our home? I thank God that I've been able to keep up with all of this. Thankfully, it won't be for much longer.