Mistaken Identity

I work out (at too early in the morning) with a group of women and sometimes a few guys. Did I tell you that the guys haven't lasted. It's that hard of a work out. Being unfit despite having six children to run after and care for doesn't quite translate to muscles. I've found that motherhood has a tendency towards flabbiness. The irony, just--SUCKS.

Our exercise group got together because we all shared the same personal trainer. His name is Akil (fitting isn't it?). I think the definition for Akil is simply: to kill unfit flabby women at no cost. Which he does with ease. Every morning at 5 a.m.

The funny thing about our work out group, is the fact that we just took whatever name Akil called us as an introduction to each other. Trusting him because well, he's our trainer, right?

So the first day of working out and no introductions to the other barely breathing and sweating girls; I would hear Akil call his clients by name. He had called one girl, "X" which I assumed was a nickname because she did look like an "X factor." Actually she looked like a Greek Goddess. She was the live model in which the Greek Goddesses were sculpted into marble; she makes the rest of us look like peasants. Right, back to the point of the blog. He called others, Titi, (which if you're in my family is a name); next he called someone "Earl". And the rest of the girls had justifiable real names.

So long story short, I just kept thinking, the poor girl named, Earl. Why did her parents call her Earl? And all the other girls started calling her Earl too.


One day, two weeks later after our informal/non-existent introductions, I was paired up with Earl. As we crossed each other on our killer lunges, and my thighs were burning, I finally took courage. I asked, "Earl, that's your name, right?"

Which she answered, laughing, almost dropping her dumb bells off of her shoulders, "Hell, no! Akil thinks, I could have played in the NFL. He calls me Earl." Which I knew stood for Earl Campbell. My NFL knowledge still kicks in.

Being embarrassed, I apologized for thinking her real name was Earl.

She then turned to me and asked, "And your name isn't (here she hesitates) Monkey?"

"Monkey?" I answered just to make sure I heard it right.

"I thought I heard Akil, call you Monkey."

So there you have it. Y'know about the beam in your own eye? Earl had nothing to worry about, because being called Monkey, hands down, is the worst mistaken identity for a name like Vagi.

We later exchanged real names. Earl is really Shavonne. And well, Monkey almost sounds like Vagi, right?

And what's the lesson here? Earl is definitely a better name then Monkey, any day, 5 a.m. in the early morning. OR any unforgivable time in the morning day or night.

I'm hoping she thought it was a term of endearment.

I finally told Akil this story, he couldn't stop laughing for a whole minute. Well, once again, WE are ALL laughing together, right? Akil swears, he's never called me Monkey. And now he thinks, he just might.

I love reading, it's my sanity away from the insanity of it all. I love mysteries mostly because it's my own version of putting a puzzle together, minus the parts that have the ability to get lost because some child thought it was a chewing toy. My ultimate favorite mystery tale(s) solely belong to Miss Marple, one of Agatha's Christie's brilliant sleuths. Then again, Agatha Christie is reigning Queen of mysteries in the genre and in my heart. But here are three of one of the best (in three's) that I've found enjoyable and have consumed my most valuable time. Albeit, given gladly, my time that is.

Tana French's Novels: "In the Woods" "The Likeness" and "The Faithful Place"

One word: Ireland.



























John Hart. I started reading this author only because I loved the title of the book. It lived up to it's title and more. So I read two more of his novels. Sometimes, I had to flip to the front of the book to remind myself that it was a mystery, because it had really great elements of great literature. Read the opening of the "Last Child" and tell me if that isn't just brilliant writing.

















Alan Bradley. I devoured each book in half a day, while taking motherly sidelong glances over the book to make sure the children were alive. Actually, my children were waiting for me to finish so they could read it. Hence my newest invention of torture was birthed.

Happy puzzle reading!

Quote me on Monday!

I just picked up C.S. Lewis's, "Mere Christianity" and started reading it for the third time. He's not an easy read but well worth all the deep and provoking thoughts, I rarely come up with on my own. Com'n, I'm a sleep deprived mother, when am I supposed to get some "deep and provoking" thoughts? Of certainty I'm not receiving any provoking thoughts when I'm trying to shut the noise out of incessant chattering children or trying to hear these "deep, provoking thoughts" above my recognizable yelling, screaming voice. So as a shortcut to deep thoughts or not; here is C.S. Lewis in quotes.


"There was a boy called Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it."
— C.S. Lewis (The Voyage of the "Dawn Treader") ~



"I am a product [...of] endless books. My father bought all the books he read and never got rid of any of them. There were books in the study, books in the drawing room, books in the cloakroom, books (two deep) in the great bookcase on the landing, books in a bedroom, books piled as high as my shoulder in the cistern attic, books of all kinds reflecting every transient stage of my parents' interest, books readable and unreadable, books suitable for a child and books most emphatically not. Nothing was forbidden me. In the seemingly endless rainy afternoons I took volume after volume from the shelves. I had always the same certainty of finding a book that was new to me as a man who walks into a field has of finding a new blade of grass."
— C.S. Lewis


"Numbers don't win a battle."
— C.S. Lewis (The Chronicles of Narnia)


Everyone thinks forgiveness is a lovely idea until he has something to forgive."
— C.S. Lewis


"Affliction is often that thing which prepares an ordinary person for some sort of an extraordinary destiny."


"Clearly one must read every good book at least once every ten years."
— C.S. Lewis


There are a dozen views about everything until you know the answer. Then there is never more than one."
— C.S. Lewis (That Hideous Strength)


It doesn't really matter whether you grip the arms of the dentist's chair or let your hands lie in your lap. The drill drills on."
— C.S. Lewis (A Grief Observed)

"Girls aren't very good at keeping maps in their brains", said Edmund, "That's because we've got something in them", replied Lucy."
— C.S. Lewis (The Chronicles of Narnia)


"Badness is only spoiled goodness."
— C.S. Lewis


"The way for a person to develop a style is (a) to know exactly what he wants to say, and (b) to be sure he is saying exactly that."
— C.S. Lewis


"Perhaps my bad temper or my jealousy are gradually getting worse - so gradually that the increase in seventy years will not be very noticeable. But it might be absolute hell in a million years!"
— C.S. Lewis (Mere Christianity)


"The cross comes before the crown and tomorrow is a Monday morning! "
— C.S. Lewis


"One day you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."
— C.S. Lewis


"When pain is to be born, a little courage helps more than much knowledge, a little human sympathy more than much courage, and the least tincture of the love of God more than all."
— C.S. Lewis (The Problem of Pain)


"Humour is...the all-consoling and...the all-excusing, grace of life."
— C.S. Lewis (The Screwtape Letters)

What's in your fridge?

On Sunday I went hunting for my tweezer. Only it wasn't to pluck the eyebrows. No, it was for the hair on my chinny chin chin. My UGLY and revolting little hair on my chinny chin chin, which desperately needed to be removed immediately. It was not in it's usual place. I hunted. I yelled. I yelled some more and still it didn't show up; and not one child (who I--know-- is guilty) of why my tweezer went missing, courageously stepped up to the chopping block.

Memo to me: raise more courageous children. Oh, and children who will not touch valuable tweezers.

The next day, a mundane Monday morning, after a grueling workout with Akil; I naturally wanted food. Something on the line of feeding my incredible muscles. I do have them y'know... muscles. They're hidden out of sight under the fat. But they did need feeding. So ask me what I found sitting on the upper shelf next to my smart water?

My muscle milk?

MY TWEEZER! In the FRIDGE! What is it doing in the fridge?! I started yelling, “Who put my tweezer in the fridge?” Not one courageous or guilty conscience child fessed up. No, but there were five looking back at me, like--I--had pulled the stunt. They all left the kitchen as quickly as they could back peddle as they saw that my nostrils were flaring.

The thing is, this isn't the first I've found something that DOES NOT belong in the fridge. This was the one thing that finally broke the camel's back.

Do you want to know what I have found?

Here's the short list:

Yzhak's shoe (poor Yzhak was probably set up)
Rosina's hair brush (no wonder she doesn't brush her hair)
A wrench (Taua my busy body creator)
A toothbrush (definitely belonging to Samanu)
A rock (I can't decide which child did that)
Barbecue coal (I remember there were two—Aaron?)
Listerine (who knows)

With that history, I should have gone looking for my tweezer in the fridge, right?

I don't even want to go into how those things got there. But they were there. One day I'll find out how or why? For now, I'm still shaking my head.

So what's in your fridge? Got an interesting tale to tell?

Ode to the great "O" the month of October....

I needed, no, wanted to pay a tribute to the great month of October. Since I did wait to the very last minute while trick-o-treaters are knocking on my door. I love the colors and smell that is distinctly and uniquely owned by this great month. So what if it means a true end of summer and the dropping temperatures, although, it was actually a very warm October. I opted to use the words of a few great poets. Mostly because next to their words, I couldn't do October any justice. The first is from Robert Frost and the second from Carl Sandburg (pertaining to one of the great symbols of this month). Even the great poets recognized the great “O”. Enjoy......

October

O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
To-morrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
To-morrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow,
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know;
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
One from our trees, one far away;
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
Slow, slow!
For the grapes' sake, if they were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—
For the grapes' sake along the wall.

Robert Frost


Theme in Yellow

I spot the hills 
With yellow balls in autumn. 
I light the prairie cornfields 
Orange and tawny gold clusters 
And I am called pumpkins. 
On the last of October 
When dusk is fallen 
Children join hands 
And circle round me 
Singing ghost songs 
And love to the harvest moon; 
I am a jack-o'-lantern 
With terrible teeth 
And the children know 
I am fooling.

Carl Sandburg