Saturday, November 21, 2009

Sand



Yesterday I drove out to two of the county beaches, Haven and Aaron's. The good news is they're still there, but the storm certainly made some changes.

For example, in the photo above from Aaron's, that sand has been pushed way up into the marsh grass--look how deep it is. The water cut a trench in the beach as you walk in from the parking lot, and there's another one way down to the right where there used to be some fallen trees.

At Haven the sand had shifted up also, and to the left much of that beach is gone.
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We're darting to a completely unrelated topic We're shifting gears now.

OK, earlier this week I wrote about Eligible Bachelor Mark from Mathews who saved my boat. To facilitate the process of introducing him to interested eligible ladies, I'm going to interview him, take pictures and post the results on Monday (if everything works out). What happens next is still being deliberated.

If you feel like helping me out, perhaps you could post some questions that we could ask for the profile post. Interviewing is part of my paying job, so I'm comfortable coming up with my own questions, but I'm not usually interviewing prospective boyfriends for other people. Usually.

So, what questions would you ask Mark if you were eligible?

Have you (or someone you know) ever been on a blind date? How did it go?


Have a great Saturday and enjoy the weekend.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Nicknames



OK, I don't expect you to believe me, but something really bizarre just happened.

Ordinarily I have no earthly idea what I'm going to write in a post until I sit down and stare at various pictures I've pre-loaded. The picture may trigger a thought which may trigger a bigger thought and voila, a post is born. Sometimes at work when bored which is approximately 8 hours per day, I'll make a list of potential topics to use if I'm uninspired by the pictures.

The topic of nicknames has been on my list for two weeks now, and each evening it was a contender for the next day's post but it kept getting shoved to the back burner. Last evening as I was cleaning up after supper, I made the decision to write about nicknames for today's post. Knowing I'd already briefly touched on the topic of names some time last year, I went back to that post and was pleased to discover that it was about strange first names, not nicknames, although we did dabble in nicknames in the comments section. Click here to see.

Then I looked at the date of the post: November 20th, 2008. Exactly one year ago to the day. What are the chances?

[Insert sound of creepy music that goes doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo.]
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Anyway, we have lots of characters with nicknames running around here. In my neighborhood alone, there are aplenty:

Prunes - my father's friend. He hauls our trash to the dump. Descended from Tangier Island.

Mooch - Prunes' wife. When I was a kid I always thought they called her Moose and never understood why. Not that I understand Mooch, mind you.

Miss Curly - same person as Mooch, aka Prunes' wife. She gets two nicknames. Maybe it's because she keeps her Christmas tree up year 'round, prominently displayed in the picture window. Who knows.

Cotton - He lived in the red brick house that Mental P Mama wants to buy.

Sticks - Cotton's son who is just a few years older than me. Or older than I. He was older. And as skinny as a stick, hence the name.

When I was in high school, I played basketball with Dopie, Buckwheat, LaRue, and Boufant. LaRue had a brother called Mumps (his real name was the unusual Grayling). Of course who from around these parts can forget Watergate, the unofficial mayor of Ward's Corner and groundskeeper of the stretch of road from Eastview to Westview Inn.

My father is friends with Pepsi, Poochie and Meat Morris. Meat is like my father's brother; they drink bourbon tinker on cars up at Meat's garage on Route 700. I absolutely do not ever want to know how Meat got his nickname.

Jeffrey Rainier gave me a nickname in 7th grade. He and a few others called me Flipper because my straight-as-a-poker hair was mashed so flat to my head that my ears would poke out. He sat behind me in Mr. Thomas's social studies class and would flick me on the ear. Then in 8th grade shop class he made me a sign that said Flipper. Then he asked me to a 9th grade dance, which is a story for another time.

Most people just called me by my last name, which I actually liked.

My Baby Sis was known as Sunshine, and she played basketball with a person whose nickname was actually Baby Sis. (Trust me, this makes sense to those of us who are crazy as a loon know the characters.)

Middle Sis had a nickname, but I can't remember what it was. Perhaps she can enlighten us.

Did you have a nickname? What are some unusual nicknames from your past?

If I write about names or nicknames on November 20, 2010, I'm officially dubbing myself psychic although psycho would be more appropriate.