Saturday, June 30, 2012

Thunderstorm MD June 29, 2012

Terrible picture of the lightening

Flash makes everything look normal. You can't even tell a massive thunderstorm is going on.

Dad: It's a good thing we didn't decide to watch the storm after all.
Me: Yeah. Looks like if we did one of our heads would be chopped off and the other person would've been flipped over and smashed.
Dad: You know your mom is going to want to keep those chairs.
Me: Yeah. She'll insist we bend them back into shape.
Dad: And it'll never happen.
Me: So, hello new bent chairs that will stay in our lawn forever!

Dad: I should probably fix this before someone gets electrocuted.
*Both of us look over at the neighbor's yard and we notice that even their clothes are perfectly intact on the clothesline.*
Dad: Why is it that not even a piece of grass is missing from their yard, but with us it looks like a hurricane went through? 

Friday, June 22, 2012

Danish Cold-table and Illegal Sandwich Eating: Funny Story

So, nearly every year we have this thing on my mom's viking side of the family (which is Danish) called a Cold Table (aka Det Store Kolde Bord -- don't ask me how to pronounce that, I don't know!) 

Now for those of you who don't know, a cold table actually isn't a table that's cold (yeah I know! The name is so misleading, right?) but a buffet sorta thing that serves, well, cold food! There is herring (seel), and cheese, stjerneskud (translation: shooting star. Cool, right?), dyrlaegens natmad, and other various foods I cannot pronounce. And last, but certainly not least, there are OPEN SANDWICHES. Which, by American definition, are not sandwiches at all but bread with stuff on them...that you eat with forks...yeah. So, I always had a issue with them. I mean, why eat a sandwich with a fork and knife when you can eat it with your hands much quicker? Plus, when are Danes so civilized? I thought we were vikings. Somehow plundering villages doesn't seem that civilized to me, but I guess I wouldn't know. 

Anyway, back to my point, this whole open sandwich thing didn't work for me, nor did the "no using bare hands" rule. But I was very clever, or so I thought, and decided I KNOW! I can use my fork and knife as hands. So, I put my sandwich together using my fork and knife and then held it up, with one utensil on the bottom and the other on top, while my Mormor (mother's mother) stared at me with wide eyes and made a comment about how my Morfa's (mother's father) Mor (mother) is probably rolling in her grave.

The end.

Yeah, sorry, couldn't think of a paragraph to tie all these together.

Moral of story: In Denmark, do not use fork and knife as hands or a lot of Danish zombies might kill you.

Hilarious Emotional Phase: A Funny Story

So, for the past couple of days, I've been rather hilariously emotional. Usually this hilarious emotional phase of mine can be kind of overlooked, because I think I'm actually really sad and it is normal to be really sad about whatever I'm really sad about, but this one story I'm about to tell...well, there was no reason for me to be sad at all, which is how I realized: "Oh, super hilarious emotional phase has begun!"

Here's the story:

I was sitting on the couch with my sister and her husband, watching Iron Chef. Now, I enjoy food and I enjoy people who cook food, but I am not the biggest fan of shows on cooking food, even if they include drama and competitiveness which makes them bearable to watch, but, anyway, I was watching this with my sister and her husband, and found myself welling up with emotion.

A cook-person would come on and be like, "I am so passionate about broccoli. I love working with it. Oooh broccoli!"and would be all teary-eyed, and in response I'd be like: How sad, this person loves broccoli so much. I feel so sad.

Then, another person would be jumping up and down, shouting "hooray" b/c they made it to the next round, and I was just sitting there with my throat all clogged, trying to keep down the sobs.

I didn't realize at first that this was one of those hilarious emotional phases I am wont to have every so often. I actually thought, for a while: this is normal. It is totally normal for me to be sad because people love broccoli so much. But it wasn't, and I realized this after a while, when the show was over and my wanting to sob began to ebb away.

These were my thoughts in chronological order:
This is weird.
I don't usually become sad over stuff like this.
Nobody else is sad, because it's obviously not something to be sad over.
Why am I sad? 
I don't even like this show.
This isn't normal.

And then it dawned on me, that, well, this is Hilarious Emotional Phase, and I found it rather funny and shared it with my mom, and we both died laughing...except, well, we didn't die, because that's a figure of speech. I just, I wanted to make that clear, in case you didn't know and thought this post was written by a ghost. That would be kinda creepy.

Happy reading and writing and blogging and reading blogs and whatever else you people do!

- Cara

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Inspirational: St. John Vianney

I found this inspirational and beautiful. It's a prayer by St. John Vianney, also known as Jean-Marie Vianney or the Cure of Ars. I've been reading a book on him recently, and have only gotten up to his childhood, and already I'm drawn in. His life is just so inspiring. Here's the prayer:

I love You, O my God, and my only desire is to love You until the last breath of my life.
I love You, O my infinitely lovable God,
and I would rather die loving You, than live without loving You.
I love You, Lord, and the only grace I ask is to love You eternally
My God, if my tongue cannot say in every moment that I love You,
I want my heart to repeat it to You as often as I draw breath.

Friday, June 1, 2012

God, I'm thirsty

Based on the conversation I had with my nephew, I made this photo/quote thingy. The photograph is my nephew holding his tiny hands together.

Children are necessary to be happy in life

So, I've come to the conclusion, that if you don't have children in your life you are either A.) Really stingy. B) Really lonely, or C) Lack a complete sense of humor, or probably all of the above, because, seriously, who can resist little kids? They are so cute and so funny! Working with 33 little 6/7year olds this year really made my life, and no joke, it was the best year I've ever had. There was stress and there was a complete lack of energy some days, but those little munchkins really knew how to make my day.

Quotes and special moments from the kids in my life:

Little Boy: Miss [inserts my last name] what were you typing on your computer at the library?
Me: I write books.
Little Boy: Really?! So did you write all the books at the library?

Little boy: Miss ... have you decided if you're going to be a sister yet?
Me: Yes, i'm waiting on them to accept me.
Another little boy looks over at us.
Little boy number one then goes: Miss ...'s going to be a sister. You know sisters can be teachers too. She's already a teacher!

The day before my birthday was hilarious. I kept getting little reminders.
"Guess what Miss ...!!"
"It's your birthday tomorrow!"
Me: *thinking: Oh really? I didn't know.*
And then another boy: "Don't forget it's your birthday tomorrow!"

On my birthday, the boys threw a surprise party for me with balloons and cake. It was so cute. I walked in after my lunch break and they all shouted happy birthday Miss ...! And they colored on my banner and made me tiger drawings since I told them yesterday the tiger was my favorite animal. And one boy gave me a pencil and eraser, saying he didn't have any money so that's all he could give me.

So, of course, my boys gave me little presents on Valentine's day. My favorite, though,would have to be the boy who touches my shoulder and whispers "for you, Miss ..." and gives me this half chewed, already used whale eraser. And then after, he kept looking back at me with this big smile on his face. It was really sweet.

Me: Boys, who can think of a miracle they want to tell me?
*Little boy raises his hand and tells me when jesus multiplied the loaves.
Other littlo boy: Miss ... I know a miracle! When i turn into an army man and shoot the robber.
Me: O.o

School was over and I was headed to the dorm to relax, when I hear this: "Wait Miss ...!!"
I turn around. "What?"
Little boy runs toward me and wraps his arms around me. Then he let go and walked down to the pickup circle.

*With my sister and nephew*
Sister: Who's your favorite? Mommy or Daddy?
My nephew looks at us for a while and then goes, "Cara!"

(four-year-old) Nephew: I missed you. Where were you?
Me: I was in Kansas.
Nephew: Oh. I was at work.

"God I'm thirsty. Get me a drink."
I walk over to get my nephew a drink.
"Does God not have any hands?"

My nephew: "My angel's name is Boxy Thingy."
"I think tomorrow Boxy Thingy won't be invisible anymore."
"Hey Boxy Thingy can you go to the store for me?"
*In the bathroom* "Boxy Thingy is in here to protect me from the devil."

This is my little nephew, Jacob, who is now four-years old, going to be five in January.
This was me holding him when he was just days old. It's crazy to think how fast time flies!

Home Sweet Home...and all that's in between.

So, I'm home now. Nothing much has changed. My family is still crazy, the house is still a mess (though slightly cleaner than before), and it's still crawling with ten billion cats, two of which have had babies, which I'm not complaining of. I love kittens; they're so cute! Here are some pictures of the new (yet predictable) stuff going on back home...
Notice anything odd? Yeah, that's right, the very small kitten does not belong. I don't know where it came from, actually. It just appeared one day with the rest of the batch. The mom doesn't care; she takes care of it like it's her own. This has happened before where our cats adopt stray kittens and bring them into the house, but usually not at such a young age, and it hasn't happened in a long time. Nonetheless, it's very cute. I think we're going to be keeping the odd ball out.

So, there's obviously a new style going on at my house. Yeah, that's right, poison ivy leaves that have now reached the top floor. Not going to lie, it does look kinda neat and even my dad has commented on how much he likes it, but let's not forget it's poison ivy leaves. I don't quite think the neighbors will like it much.

Oh, how I've missed the view of my bedroom window and the big splosh of bird poop that will probably never wash away.