Well, I finally got the speech written.
It’s “short” (2 pages or ~ 3 mins. to read)
and “sweet” (I managed not to verbally bludgeon anyone).
Mrs H, my children, and Jay all were kind enough to listen / read and add their constructive criticism. . .
When I was writing my final copy last night, I had Jay read it with the instructions that he had to read it through before offering any editing suggestions. . .
He was all ready typing “corrections” in the first paragraph. . .
(I erased them all. He was getting terribly wordy. . .) Did keep some of his word change ideas, but he was adding whole paragraphs. (And he’s used to writing for the military. . .which makes for an incredibly boring read.)
Jay gave me a “present” this morning:
(3 cats and a dog. . .)
and after asking if I was going to pick up groceries after this Senate hearing, wished me luck. . .
I have to say, food is the last thing on my mind today, even though our cupboards are bare.
For the record, I’m terrified.
I went to all my favorite blogs. I was looking for a laugh, but everyone I know seems to be in the midst of or on the other side of a cold.
Went to my aunt’s blog. Her’s are very relaxing. I go there almost every mid-day when I think I’m going to pull out my hair if I get one more algebra / science / grammar question or am fed up with refereeing.
She has a beautiful female cardinal posted. . .
I “killed” one of those once.
In WV, where I grew up.
It’s the state bird of WV.
I was in a constant state of fear that the authorities would come down and charge me with birdie manslaughter.
Actually, I had found it, on a hill. All these other big cardinals were swooping down and attacking this poor little birdie. Pecking it, grabbing at it with their “feet”.
So, I shooed them all away and picked up the bird, and brought it home. My poor mother. . .
She told me I could keep it outside in the dog house (we didn’t have a dog any longer). I remember finding worms, then using a cutting board and one of mom’s knives to cut the worm up into little itty-bitty bits, so I could suck it up in an eye-dropper and then feed the injured bird.
Did I mention, “my poor mother”? Sorry, about that mom. I don’t recall if I even cleaned up after myself (probably didn’t). So, if you had to clean up worm guts off your knife and cutting board. . . I apologize.
I think the bird lived a day or so, but then died. I don’t know if it was lack of food (finding worms and chopping them up, was not really “my thing”), or if it was the nighttime freeze that killed it. . .
I need to get off and get ready for this Senate hearing.
I’m hoping it goes better than the whole birdie episode.