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“I am the Entertainer…”

Okay, so let me start today with a very big M’wah (smooch) to Stephanie (a HuffPo contributor!) at Making Time For Me, who, has, well, made my week twice in a row (and vey iz mere, this has been a rough fortnight, no one should know from) by honoring me with this very special award, The Entertainer. Additionally, my incredible blogger-loving friend Stephanie, reblogged a post of mine on her site yesterday. Kvelling so much (oozing with happiness and pride), my heart has palpitations (a doctor, you think maybe I should call one, oy)!

Stephanie, I am happy to answer the call of The Entertainer award (and feeling very reminiscent of Billy Joel, happily), and even happier to be appreciated by the work I am doing here at my keyboard, in my growing corner of the blogosphere. Thank you doesn’t begin to tell you how I feel.

And here, are the rules, for without them, we have anarchy (dig to ‘Mr. rhymes with Rump’):

  1. Display the award image on your blog
  2. Write a post about the award, and graciously applaud your fellow blogger (with love and thankfulness)
  3. Answer the questions
  4. Share the blogger love by nominating others

Here are the questions:

Why did you start to blog in the first place?

The truth is, I started typing up my spiel because it is a helluva lot cheaper than therapy. I get to release my story, the good, the bad and the ugly, to you my dear readers, who I have granted honorary therapeutic degrees that allow me to heal in a world that is filled with tsuris (troubles) and naches (joy). Now mind you, I’m not always kvetching (complaining), but dreck (shit crap) happens. Without the dreck, where would the joy be? Armed with my old faithful, MacBook Pro, my iPhone camera and this journey called life, I  write about my muses, the loves of my world, the Mrs., Little and Big and our whacky adventures through my ‘glass half-full’ looking glass. We are two mommas with two girls and a pup named Gatsby, the only man of the house.

Together, I hope we can laugh, cry, learn and inspire each other. I want for us to find our commonalities, embrace our differences and hopefully grow with strength, empathy and compassion. And of course, I want to make you laugh. All the while, I am trying to keep the beautiful, dying language of Yiddish (thank you Nanny Helen) alive.

What is your favorite book?

This changes daily, weekly. Well you get me. I love reading, and with the littles, I read a lot of stories. Currently, I am one with, Zen Shorts, by Jon Muth. Some days, I read it just for me. I recommend it for every one of every age.

What is your favorite pastime activity?

I love spending time with my mishpocheh (family). On a nice day, we all sneaker up and head to the Wissahicken, a gorgeous, ginormous park, filled with trails and hikes and eye candy-scenery. We take along snacks and water, have Gatsby by our side, and we explore the nature around us. The fab five together is all I need (and then we tick check, not so fun)!

 Without further ado, I present to you my nominations, my fellow entertainers:

Thank you all for doing what you do! You have enriched my world in ways I cannot explain! M’wah!

 

Linky’s:

 

I thought I was ready for shock, anger, disappointment and fear

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Gutinue! (Jeeze Louise!) WTF What is going on? Last week, here, in the good ol’ U. S. of A., the Republican National Convention officially nominated the ill-equipped, narcissistic, racist, sexist, violence provoking, psychopathic, tax evading, reality TV star Donald Trump and his poisonous partner in conservatism and hate, Mike Pence. Please forgive me if I may have left off an adjective, or ten. Gonifs (thieves, dishonest people), the two of them are.

Donny and Mike do not think (I could end the sentence perfectly well here):

  • That the Mrs. and I should be married (How do I tell that to Big and Little?)
  • That #BlackLivesMatter
  • That borders should be open for Muslims, and that every Muslim here, needs to go
  • That Mexicans should live in our country, so we need to build a great big wall
  • That any country should send us their tired, their poor, their hungry, especially if there is a history of terrorism
  • That anyone with a uterus should have a choice over their own body
  • That guns are a problem
  • That climate change exists
  • That debt can be fixed with the Art of the Deal

Mr. Trump, he ended his goliath gathering with throngs chanting, “lock her up” and “build the wall.” Nice. I’m certain their mothers are all very pleased. This Yiddisher Momma is having all sorts of ‘Hitleresque’ feelings and will steer clear of any showers built or ‘camps’ created in the terrifying event of a Trump win.

Today, Hillary and Tim are here, in my city, for their big soiree, the Democratic National Convention. Admittedly, she is flawed. Server-gate was not a good move, and I can get past that. Email-gate? Trump will no doubt thank the Russians and his pal Putin for this latest wiki-leak.

The main reason people HATE (yes hate) Hillary, is blatant sexism. She is held to a standard that those who stand up to pee are not. While by no means perfect (as if such a thing exists), she is smart, aggressive, influential and well equipped to seek the highest ‘glass-ceiling shattering’ power office in this country. If a man with her same qualifications, experiences and credentials were running for the very oval office she is running for, they would have been applauded from sea to shining sea. Even by Bernie.

And for those of you who are still feeling the Bern, whether he is an atheist or a Jew, GET THE FUCK OVER IT! He didn’t make it. There was no great big conspiracy.

Nu? So you’re united in your unhappiness about whose left?

To quote Ted Cruz, “Vote your conscience.” Vey iz mere (holy shit!), I just quoted a very hateful man as he spoke live from the RNC floor. And he is right. On the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November, get the hell up and VOTE. Hold your nose, stuff a sock in your mouth if you have to, but vote you must.

And if you don’t vote, voo den (what the fuck heck) do you expect to happen? Madness. Chaos. Anarchy. And a power-hungry man with his finger on ‘the red button.’

If you don’t get out and vote, than we all will be no better than vi a fortz in rossel (a fart in a barrel).

VOTE please. I was with her in the primary. And #ImWithHer now. #ImWithHer

 

Linky’s:

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The simple truth about my guilt packing a pistol

Anyone who knows me knows that I despise guns. I believe the right to bare arms has been totally misconstrued from a constitutional amendment that stands for a well-armed militia, hundreds of years ago, vs. ‘I’m scared of you and your pack of skittles,’ or, ‘your tail light is out; get me your license and registration.’ ‘Nuf said. You can read many of my other posts pontificating on the excessive violence, racism and hate in our world.

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I feel quite the hypocrite. I have a puppy. His name is Gatsby. Yes, after the Great Gatsby. He is the first real dog we have had. He chews on the wood trim and doors. He buries and hides his bones throughout the apartment. He digs holes outside in the common areas. He climbs the sofa and leaps to the kitchen counter (really) to eat the scraps of a peanut butter sandwiches left over from Big. He puppy-nips at Little for, well, being Little. He scavenges for food as we walk around the neighborhood.

Enter this pistol packing, gun-toting, and charlatan of a Yiddisher Momma. To clarify, the arms I carry is a water pistol / squirt gun. It is used purely for correctional puppy purposes. It shoots sprays a stream of water from afar, alerting my dear, loveable mutt that he is acting less than the stellar boychik (little boy) we need him to become.

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A happy puppy is a well-exercised puppy. This also fits in with the lifestyle of this Yiddisher Momma. As we gad about the ‘hood, Gatsby is an incessant barker when he spies another pup. He is fantastically friendly, yet simply desperate to meet a new buddy. The yapping, more like a geshrei (quite loud and piercing), ceases the moment he is nose to nose with a new canine comrade. Where their noses go after, they should live and be well. But until that point, vey iz mer (OMG!)…

I hadn’t yet mentioned that he is a rescue. Here, the term is dual in nature. We rescued him because he was in need of a loving family and a home, and he rescued us, as our family was in dire need of an affectionate and playful pooch. We all make a nice family.

The boychik (little boy) of the family!

As a rescue, he rummages for food, no matter how many times we fill his bowl with healthy, raw, canine cuisine. If left to his own devices, he will eat pure dreck (trash, poo, bugs, vomit, grass, and dead things), along with anything else in reach. Just last week, I pulled from his mouth, a small dead bird, 4 chicken (oh my, I hope so at least) bones, many wood chips, and did I mention the deceased fowl?

After much reading, and searching our memories of pugs past (Atticus and Elijah), we remembered the squirt tactic. I searched high and low for an affordable ‘squirter’ that did not resemble a G-U-N. Fifteen years ago we had an alligator and a snail, or a flower… that delivered the same watery lesson. But the lifeless, leathery bird was too much mishegas (craziness) for me to bear. This frugalista had to do something fast and furious. I entered the Family Dollar, and found 3 shiny, colorful water guns: red, green and yellow. They were small enough to carry, big enough to do the job. All for one dollar.

We can now walk for an hour or more, and have maybe, 2 squirts, mostly related to over-barking. We can walk right past that mummified mouse, covered in ants. Newfound wisdom allows him to dodge the remains from the Colonel’s chicken bucket. It’s a remarkable transformation for which we are all kvelling (bursting with joy)!

But I am still packing. So if any of you are aware of some affordable arms that hold no resemblance to those ghastly items I loathe, do tell! Gatsby and me, we are a work in progress.

 

Linky’s:

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Repetition is the Mother of Mastery; And sometimes it’s not

Yoga guru Baron Baptiste always says (at least when I did his DVD over and over again, that  “Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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“Repetition is the Mother of Mastery.”

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And sometimes it’s just not.

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And sometimes it’s just not.

And sometimes it’s just not. We have to change it up. We have to stop it.

We just have to stop this horrible behavior.

 

Linky’s:

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