Snippets Of Life

Bomb Diggity: Staying In Your Good Books By Sharing Memes About Books + A Very Special Reader Comments

/ Ally Bean / 203 Comments

Yesterday I learned a new-to-me idiom. It is “in someone’s good books” and is defined by The Idioms as:

If you are in somebody’s good books, it means you have done something good that has delighted them, and if you are in their bad books, you have annoyed them, and they are now angry with you.

Granted over the years I’ve said something similar [to be “in someone’s good graces”] but now I have another respectable idiom to add to my personal lexicon.

Also, I have what will be the catalyst for this blog post: BOOKS.

You see, my little popsicles of profundity, I’m currently at loose ends, a blogging wordsmith with time on my hands because somehow or another IT IS STILL FEBRUARY and not much is going on in my life.

Thus with the aforementioned catalyst in mind I perused my folders and files that are in order for once because I’ve used this winter to get my little bloggy organized for the first time in years.

[To wit please note, there’s a revised About Ally Bean tab; a new Best Of The Bean tab; an updated Blogroll 2.0 tab + a new Header image.]

Getting back to the issue at hand, after looking into my recently organized folders and files I found the following which I present without any personal commentary. Yes, this is unusual for me but I’ll admit that at this point in February my bomb is less diggity than usual.

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AND FINALLY A VERY SPECIAL READER COMMENTS…

After writing the above I realized the following bloggers who comment here regularly are also authors of published books. Seems like a good time to mention them. Click on a name and go say “HI!” Tell ’em Ally Bean sent you.

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📚 Now it’s your turn to stay in my good books, and I know you want to delight me, so leave a comment below! 📚

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A 3:00 A.M. Tale In Which We Experience Batshit Crazy For Real

/ Ally Bean / 230 Comments

As if last week, a difficult week for everyone, could not have been any stranger…

Forget your ancient church belfry, this tale takes place in modern times, starting in an upstairs suburban bedroom, moving to the two-story foyer, dashing about in 2 upstairs guest bedrooms, and culminating in the downstairs TV room adjacent to the kitchen.

Who is the star of this tale? Zen-Den, of course!

Here’s what happened.

I was awakened from a sound sleep when I heard the rattling of our wooden blinds at the bedroom window. I glanced over at the blinds and saw swooping birdlike shadows at the window. The shadows reminded me of scenes in the Alfred Hitchcock movie “The Birds.”

You see, in my drowsiness I thought somehow the bright light from the lamppost in front of the house was shining through the blinds making it appear that birds were creating shadowy silhouettes OUTSIDE the window.

But I was wrong.

I realized this when I got out of bed, walked over to the blinds to see what was going on at the window, only to learn that what I was seeing was INSIDE the house.

I definitively discerned this when something flew straight at me, swooped over my head as I hunched and shuddered, then dashed out the open bedroom door going into the foyer where it started flying around the chandelier like it was crazy.

Batty, even.

Fleece throw aka my impromptu babushka

Calmly, you would have been proud of me, I woke up Z-D who was oblivious to our winged intruder. I told him something was wrong, something creepy was flying around, and that he needed to get up to investigate. I also told him he’d be in the lead during the investigation.

I’d follow behind, on his six.

Utilizing my natural ability to scream loudly when under attack startled.

Without complaining he got up, dressing in jeans and a ragg wool knit beanie, and started walking around the upstairs rooms while I followed behind him, still in my jammies but with a plaid fleece throw [photo above] wrapped around my head like a Russian grandma in her babushka.

Quickly we realized that what I thought was a bird, was a bat. And that Z-D needed to get a broom from the garage, leaving me to stand alone in the foyer defending myself by screaming and holding a heavy doorstop [photo below] in front of my face, using it like a cross meant to keep vampires away.

This might have been helpful, maybe.

Heavy doorstop aka my potential weapon

The rest of this tale is what you’d expect if’n you’ve ever chased a bat through your house. We turned on lights everywhere. We got him out of one room, closed the door; then got him out of another room, closed the door; so on and so on, et cetera, et cetera. This went on until we were downstairs in the TV room where the bat was trying to hide on the floor in the shadows near a lounge chair.

Zen-Den saw him, wacked him with the broom, held him down, and shouted for me to get a cookie sheet from the kitchen. Which I did, putting it on the floor so that we could carefully slowly slide the bat, who was still alive and squeaking, onto it while Z-D used the broom to hold him down on the cookie sheet.

Together we slide our captive to the back door where Z-D then tossed the dude, who got into our house somehow but we don’t know how, outside into the snow.

The bat was shocked, but still alive, and gave us the evil eye as he straightened up and flew away into the night, no doubt as perturbed by this experience as we were.

And that, my gentle readers, is how it came to be that we experienced batshit crazy.

For real.

QUESTIONS OF THE DAY

Have you ever had a bat flying around inside your home? Assuming you didn’t want a bat flying around inside your home, what did you do to get rid of it?

Bats are known for their exceptional hearing abilities. Do you see the irony in a bat waking me up in the middle of the night because I’m extremely sensitive to sound? Am I part old bat and don’t know it‽

What’s the last batshit crazy thing that happened in your world? Tell all, we need to know.

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Home Sweet Home: Do You Know Where You Belong?

/ Ally Bean / 181 Comments

The Tale [Or Tail] Of An Unexpected Visitor

I wanted to sweep leaves off our deck, it being autumn and all, so I’d opened one of the French doors between our dining room and screened-in porch, leaving it open behind me, then I stepped outside into the screened-in porch.

I had a sense of purpose.

These are the steps that Cookie walked up.

Next I opened the door from the screened-in porch to the deck propping the door to the deck open. I began sweeping the leaves off the deck, attentive to what I was doing, when something from the yard, that had climbed up the stairs to our deck, dashed past me.

Like a black and white canine thunderbolt. 

This is the deck that Cookie ran across going through the screen door that was open at the time into the screened-in porch.

I pivoted quickly to see Cookie, our neighbor’s Dalmatian-Great Dane mix, go running across our deck into our screened-in porch through the door I’d propped open.

Never expecting an uninvited visitor.

These are the French doors that Cookie walked through from the screened-in porch into our dining room.

Then faster than you can say “Jack be nimble, Jack be quick” while still standing on the deck I looked through the sliding door that leads from the deck into the kitchen or vice versa. This is when I saw Cookie, the happy-go-lucky goofball, inside our house looking out at me.

Through a locked door.

This is the spot in our kitchen where Cookie stopped moving, choosing instead to stare outside at me still on the deck.

So I ran across the deck into the screened-in porch, through the dining room, around the corner into the kitchen where Cookie was patiently waiting for me to feed her. Or so I assume.

What did I do?

This is Drags pretending to be Cookie so that you can get the idea of what I saw inside my house, on the other side of the locked door, while still standing outside on the deck.

Welp, I conned her out of our kitchen through the foyer toward the front door by shouting “WALKIES” and she fell for it by following me. I opened our front door, she stepped out, and I instructed her to “go home” while pointing in the direction of her house. And with that, slightly confused but obedient, Cookie trotted off.

To her home sweet home.

Deciding Where You Belong

I stumbled across the OECD Better Life Index. The index is a simple little online gadget that allows you to determine which country would best suit your personality.

Apparently I belong in Norway.

It’s easy to determine where you belong by following the link provided above. You’ll be asked to slide some doodads around to indicate how important 11 variables are to you. Then *voilà* you’ll learn which countries are where you’d find other people vibing with your values.

Your soulmates, I guess.

Questions Of The Day

Have you had a neighbor’s dog come for an unannounced visit? If so, how’d that go? What boss move did you do to get said dog to go home?

Upon opening a door to go outside do you immediately shut it behind you— or are you lax about shutting it sometimes?

If you tried the Better Life Index, which countries do you belong in?

Do you feel Drags needs to be featured here more often? I admit I’ve drifted away from using him, but doesn’t he just make you smile?

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The One About Saying Goodbye To Icky August, Hello To Wonderful September

/ Ally Bean / 221 Comments

Once upon a time we had a cat who was told to not get up on the kitchen table. He did not listen.

May I be honest here? I’m not meant to live in super hot temperatures and this past August we had some super hot days, like ones with a daytime high of 104ºF.

Not. A. Fan.

Despite being inside in air conditioning where you might think I’d ignore my aversion to high temperatures, I did not. I could look through a window and see how hot it was outside. This made me feel tired and irritable, bereft of my usual “alacrity of spirit” as Willy Shakes* would say.

Who can make plans, go on adventures, flourish, when walking to the mailbox zaps what little energy you have managed to gin up for the day?

However last week September arrived bringing with it daytime temps near 80ºF which I find enjoyable, invigorating even.

l feel alive again.

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Of course this pleasant change in temperatures and the subsequent realization of my renewed spirit comes with its own subtext. In the dog days of summer it’s easy to put off making any decisions, too hot to think straight, right?

However with this cooler weather my excuse for not doing much of anything is over. As you can imagine I’m ready to do the things that will entertain and motivate me during my favorite season of the year.

Autumn.

Thus I ask you, my little caramel apples of inspiration, what are you thinking about doing this fall? Do you have specific plans or do you have general guidelines about autumnal activities or are you going to wing it?

I’d love to know what’s up with you regarding the next few [what I believe to be] glorious months. Will you be organized? Will you be boisterous? Will you be rebellious?

Tell all in the comments below.

And this cat whilst on the forbidden kitchen table made a point of deconstructing any bouquet of flowers he found there.

* The full quote is: “So, I am satisfied. Give me a bowl of wine. I have not that alacrity of spirit Nor cheer of mind that I was wont to have.” It is from Richard III – Act 5, scene 3 BUT I am sad to say that unlike Richard III no one brought me a bowl of wine. Good help is soooo difficult to find these days.