Rock Show at the Civic Center

June 4, 1976.  A beautiful spring day, bordering on being hot.  A few puffy clouds in the sky, new leaves on the trees in that shade of green that is only found in spring-time leaves.  in the days of festival seating, my friend, Carol Anne and I waited about 10 hours in line for Paul McCartney & Wings at St. Paul's Civic Center. We made friends of the group next to us in line and spent the day talking, taking turns getting food to save our place in line, hearing the sound check and the security guard on the other side of the gate taunting and teasing us.  When the gates opened, making a run for it while the guys attempted to hold the crowd back. I almost fell in the crush of people but we managed to get seats for the gang about 7-10 rows from the stage. I just found this clip last week and I am sure if the quality was better, you could see us.  Surely it was a memory-making day and one of the best concerts I've ever attended.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YxUTrMkH7Cc

Weekend of the butt

This seems to have become the weekend of the butt and things related to it at our house. The other night at dinner, the youngest started it off with this little gem at the dinner table:

If you read some of my posts on Facebook, you'll know that the 10 year old certainly keeps things lively at our house. Tonight she was telling about how the kids in her class were comparing the ages of their parents by the year they were born. She double-checked with my husband by asking if I was born in 1950. I told her "58" and that confused her. "1858?' she asked. Snickers from the teen and dad. "1958" I replied. Teen pounced on this to show her superiority, Do you know HOW OLD that would maker her?!", she asked incredulously. Under his breath, i really did hear dh say "She'd be farting dust".
I get no respect.

Last night, said 10 year old got to have a friend over for a sleep-over. The conversation in the back seat made the drive back to our house pretty entertaining. My child asked the other if there was much 'drama' at her school. She wasn't sure. My child related the soap opera rate at which other 5th grade classmates were 'dating' and breaking up to which her friend then told her there was no drama of that kind in her class. There was, however, a lot of stink from a couple of boys (and a few others I'm sure) and that her classroom was called the Fart Factory. 
Further discussion was whether it was better to let the fart out all at once-- loud and proud, letting go a little bit at a time or holding them in and bearing the pain.

This morning, I was listening to Bob Seger (in town last night with Kid Rock, weird combination IMHO) singing his heart of about loving to watch her strut. When it got to the line "they do respect her but" I heard it in a whole new way. Now I am hoping for a little derriere deference or rear regard for myself. Considering the dinner table comment from my true love, I am not holding out hope on that one.

It's been almost a year again so it must be time for a post.


I'm thinking.

...   ...  ....

Still thinking.


Aha! I have been fairly good about getting at least 10 minutes of writing in each day. It hasn't happened yet today unless you count this.
I have entered one writing contest so far this year; last year I think I submitted 3 or 4. I am not very good but it's more interesting than doing crossword or soduko puzzles and I can only improve, right?


I am home with a not so sick 10 year old. It's been nice being home today and knitting, You Tube-ing, and eating cappucchino muffins. I have also done 2 loads of laundry, made lunch, and filled the dishwasher to earn my keep.

Last night I came up with an idea for the local Peeps diorama contest. Now to get it made.

If I don't post before 2014, Happy New Year!