Finding Salihah

What I do in my spare time...

2009-04-16T10:31:00.002-05:00

1920's Film - Palestinian Dress Demonstration

2009-03-13T10:51:00.002-05:00

I believe this footage was taken by a UK film crew. It is dated 1920's Palestine. A smiling village girl gives a demonstration of how to put on a traditional village garb.

Oldest Human Hair Found In Fossilized Hyena Dung

2009-02-11T12:13:00.007-06:00

"Scanning electron micrographs of five fossilized human hairs is shown. The hairs were recovered from a 200,000-year-old clump of hyena dung found in Gladysvale cave, South Africa."

Um, ok. ancient poop covered hair, exciting. Did the hyena eat this person or did the dude (couldn't have been a woman) have their head up a hyena's a$& or what? I think that story and pics would be worth the read.

Rebound

2009-01-10T19:33:00.001-06:00

This always makes me smile. Good message...

Evolution of Dance

2008-10-18T19:14:00.002-05:00

Fifty years of the American dance scene by some bold, but strange, young man...

Mormon Cuss Words

2008-05-26T09:39:00.004-05:00

Growing up, I had a bunch of friends that were Mormon girls. They used to say the word "hell" as "H-E-Double-hockey-sticks". I guess the two "L"s look like hockey sticks? They also would say, "oh my heck!"

So I think this is really fun. I want to learn more Mormon swear words.

I will not go gray gracefully...

2008-05-08T19:40:00.002-05:00

Within my lustrous auburn locks I found, a gray hair, single, and utterly root bound.
That is terribly scary. Imagine you wake up one morning, yawn and stretch. Put on your sock monkey slippers and shuffle into the kitchen where you fill your tea pot and turn on the stove. You wander sleepily into the bathroom to wash your face. Might as well run a brush through that head of matted mange bed hair. "Wait...what is that? It cannot be," The light reflects off a single hair as you look in the mirror above the bathroom sink. Sleep sand stuck to your eyes, pale, and puffy, you suddenly flush red with shock.

It's a gray hair.

I am in the prime of my twenties. I come from a family with a heritage of rich, thick, black hair. My grandfather looks like a young, mediterranean, Marlo Brando, even at 80 plus years old. And here I am, with otherwise, thick, shiny, and dark brown/reddish hair, with a single gray traitor glaring at me in all it's glory. Newly grown, it seems to stand almost straight at the top near my forehead.

I scream and then pluck the d&*% thing out and run to my mother who is sitting in the kitchen. "Look!!" I shriek at her, "Look at this...this THING!"

My mother begins to laugh. A menical, sadistic laugh. And then she says, "Wow, I was YEARS older than you before I ever got a gray hair!"

I am on the lookout. Let's hope it was a fluke, an isolated case. I'm putting a box of hair dye in the back of my linen closet.

Speaking of hair, do you think if could be the hair oil I picked up at the Indian grocery store? I soak my head with it once a week and wrap it in a bandanna before bed. In the morning, I wash it as usual, and then have massive shine and softness for the rest of the week. The brand is called, "Ancient", it smells like almonds, and I've convinced myself that it is made in a secret apothecary deep in India, a family secret passed on from long-ago Mongol Empress Noor Jahan herself. This is much more fun than acknowledging that it has been made only since 1978 at some factory in Mumbai.

It is all natural, but now that I think of it, there is very little English on the box. Maybe it contains bleach and I really didn't have a gray hair.

Brownie Sins, and Banana Confessions

2008-05-08T19:16:00.006-05:00

I had a sweet tooth the other day. 99% of the time, I am a whole-foods, organic, vegetarian chef and connoisseur, that loves to cook. Every once in a while, the devil gets a hold of me and I become an overnight sell-out to refined sugar and saturated fats gone wild. And like the Christian story of Eve, I for some reason share only these recipes on my blog. One day, I'll get a conscience and share my organic, yummy, colon-friendly recipes. In the interim, enjoy...

Take one box of Pillsbury brownie mix.
Mix as directed, and bake. Do not settle for any other god-awful brand, like Betty Crocker. Use only free-range, organic eggs please. I mean, come on, we can't be that evil.

Cool a bit. Then smear with (room temp.) cream cheese.

Sprinkle with a good dose of granulated Sucanat. (That's organic raw sugar if you're not in the know)

Top with sliced bananas, strawberries, blueberries, whatever. You could even go deadly sin bound and add some swirls of chocolate syrup and fluffy blobs of whipped cream if you feel thus inspired.

Excuse me. I need to go take an advil for my newly born cavity.

It is not the critic who counts

2008-01-11T16:56:00.002-06:00

"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly…who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who have never known neither victory nor defeat."

Theodore Roosevelt
American statesman, 26th US President Theodore
1858 - 1919

_______________

Ursula said...
OT...your family is too cute.
I also peeked at your Picasa page-I'm going to the San Miguel/Guanojuato area in the summer for sdd's first communion (dh is from MX). Do you like it there? Things I should think about seeing while the rest of the family is celebrating and ds & I need to fill time. I have been doing some research and I can't wait to get down there and explore.
January 11, 2008 6:14 PM

Dina said...
Salaam sister Salihah... thanks for stopping by. I don't blog in English all the time, but feel free to add my link. I'd like to link back if it's ok with you.
February 11, 2008 10:14 AM

Edward Ott said...
I really like the roosevelt quote.
April 3, 2008 9:04 AM

A better idea is "made in China"...

2008-01-10T04:52:00.004-06:00

Only a few of these messy, polluting, oil-depended, non-decomposing things ever make it into a recycling center. Billions find their way into the dump where they sit in our soil for up to 1,000 years. But hey, for 30 minutes of those 1,000 years, we got to carry home some oranges and a loaf of bread. Sigh.

I can't believe I am saying this, but, way to to go China!!

San Francisco is considering the same:
San Francisco Leaders to Consider a Ban on Plastic Grocery Bags

Whole Foods, my favorite grocery store for our family, will no longer be stocking plastic bags soon. (One story here) They will still offer paper bags, a cleaner, more renewable resource...or the best option is to purchase one of their super sturdy, spacious, collapsible and reusable grocery totes for just $1. They fold up small enough to fit in my diaper bag, yet spacious enough that they hold more than a regular paper grocery bag...and no more ripped paper handles to worry about while your tomatoes roll across the parking lot. ;)

If must be convenient for someone to stop "needing" oil-dependent, polluting, disgusting products, it doesn't get more simple, easy, affordable, and convenient than this.

_________________

4 comments:
Plain Foolish said...
Ha! My grocery bag is super cute. (My clothes may be plain, but my shopping bag is cute? Some people have no sense of priorities, I tell you.)http://wrapsacks.com/totesheart shaped when it's all zipped up, and regular shopping bag (but with nicely sized handles) bag when unzipped. And it's got a little change pocket for when I'm at the farmer's market. And no, I don't get paid by these guys, though they are welcome to send me more bags if they choose.
January 10, 2008 6:54 AM

Plain Foolish said...
Oh, and for those with plastic bags in need of a use for them, they can be cut into a "yarn" and crocheted into a really sturdy tote. http://www.marloscrochetcorner.com/round%20plastic%20bag%20tote.htmlHaving done this, though, I strongly suggest doing it with a different, very easy on the hands project to alternate with, because crocheting with the plastic bags is very hard on the hands - no stretch at all - even cotton is easier. On the other hand, you're reusing materials that might otherwise go to waste, and the tote (I admit I didn't use the pattern above, I just sort of got out my K hook and made a solid round bottom and a few rounds up the sides then worked a mesh like Irish lace up the sides. It's my heavy duty tote, and totally sturdy.
January 10, 2008 11:19 AM

crafty fox said...
I'm glad you brought this up. So many people think nothing of it because it's such a common item, like plastic water bottles - aaarrrgh! They should at least charge money, like $1, to get people thinking.
January 14, 2008 11:02 PM

Am said...
Bangladesh banned plastic bags a few years back and it definitely cuts down on the garbage in the streets (although it doesn't eliminate it and a few scofflaw stores still use plastic bags.)In Bangladesh, the plastic drains were clogging sewers and killing sea life. Augh!
February 6, 2008 12:00 PM

Merciful Feline

2008-01-06T11:56:00.002-06:00

Oscar the cat. (Globe Staff Photo / Dina Rudick)

A nursing home cat insures that no one dies alone...

http://www.boston.com/yourlife/health/aging/articles/2007/07/25/feline_intuition/

Talk about misunderstood...

2008-01-02T19:34:00.006-06:00

Browsing Leena's blog, I came across this jewel of a gem...

The Abaya Monologues

Some western "empowered" journalist (and wife of a former Bush speech writer) spends a week in her own personal "nightmare" of niqab. Notice that she is focusing on the subject of an American woman wearing niqab in America, not women in other parts of the world that are forced to wear niqab. Why focus on a real issue when you can just pick on Muslims here in America.

For example, I adore the part where she is reading a story to her daughter, in her own home, at night, in her little girl's bed...while wearing niqab. LOL!! What a hoot. Like we wear hijab 24/7. Then she is shown working out with weights alone with a male trainer. Uh, sure, that's very normal for a niqabi. And what's with the length of her abaya anyway? So, how many actual real American-niqabis did she interview or talk to or ask how or why they do what they do? You'd think since she wants to liberate these women, she would think to ask them for their thoughts. Instead she personifies exactly what she is supposedly protesting...denying their voice. Oh, wait, who needs primary sources when doing research anyway? Nothing like the media giving us the scoop on the real truth.

I'm off to go wash my hair...oh, can anyone suggest a good shampoo that will fully penetrate my hijab? I can't seem to get my hair clean with it in the way.

Groan.
_______________

4 comments:

Plain Foolish said...
*sigh*

Please. I wear a cap, and can just *imagine* where she'd go with that. (sarcasm on) Fascinatingly enough, I can't wash my hair easily either with it in. When you find that shampoo, let me know, okay? Because we all know it's only Muslimahs who cover, right? (sarcasm off) Yeesh.

About as good as the lady who assumed I must be Canadian because of my dress and cap. (No, I haven't figured that one out, either.)
January 3, 2008 10:03 AM
Salihah said...

ROTFLOL!!! Plain, you crack me up! And you're right...maybe next week we'll get to watch her shopping at Walmart dressed like an oppressed Amish woman? Or maybe a nun? So many millions of us veiled ladies out there to choose from and liberate.
January 3, 2008 11:01 AM

Plain Foolish said...
Heavens, no, darling! Walmart? I don't think! Nothing more downscale than Ikea! Actually, I'm wondering when she's going to show off the wonderful "freedom" she's advocating by going to Whole Foods in a micromini and tube top.

Yeah, that'll happen. Right after she does that Amish series.
January 3, 2008 11:28 AM

Am said...
Oh my gosh, that was the funniest thing I've ever seen! I love how she has figured it all out. It's not religious or even cultural. Just a political tool of oppression. Shame since she rocks the niqab beautifully. But the abaya was sooooooooooooooo funny! Apparently she was waiting for a flood? Was it a Gulf abaya? And yeah, the lack of primary sources was charming.

Gotta run, I think Muna is playing in the toilet!

Brown-Eyed Girl

2007-12-31T18:08:00.002-06:00

My dad used to sing a Van Morrison song to me, "...you're my brown-eyed girl". We'd be in his pick-up, flying down country dirt roads...my head out the window, dust stirred into the breeze, the wind in my snarly little girl hair. I found this picture of my dad and I, August 1984...

Domesticated

2007-12-31T16:28:00.001-06:00

I keep finding myself more and more immersed into the Realms of Domestic Bliss. I could be very morose about this. Ten years ago, I imagined myself building a school in Sudan, climbing Everest, or living in a yurt in the redwoods of California, complete with my own hand-woven loin cloth and bra, and a girlfriend named Moonlight Oracle.

Today, I am sitting at my computer surfing through Allrecipes.com, adding a dinnerware set at Bed, Bath, and Beyond to my wishlist, and drooling over KitchenAid 6 Qt mixers. Yes, I want one. Bad. Not just the simple classic version, but the big major league 6-Quart Professional version...in red.

Today, I enjoy sudoku puzzles, know how to do kegel exercises, am wondering how to build a cold frame for a lettuce garden. I do all this while wearing sock monkey slippers. I know no one named Moonlight Oracle.

Sigh.

SiCKO

2007-12-21T16:04:00.001-06:00

The BEST movie I have seen all year. Please rent it, buy it, whatever...please just see it. Then, speak up. It's time for a revolution of how our taxes dollars are spent. How about healing, not killing?

Been here. Done this. Sick of it. After watching SiCKO, I was ready to start packing my bags for France.

I'm Still Here!

2007-12-15T23:07:00.001-06:00

When I first started blogging, it was just for myself. I had no idea anyone would ever have interest in reading the random happenings and discoveries of my life. Then I started hearing from some of you. Next I was appearing on an FM radio station a couple mornings each month. I never thought I had much to say. But then you all told me how we all share something in common, this journey of womanhood, this journey of life. You inspire me. You've all blessed me and I'm forever grateful to you.

So where have I been? In and out and all around...the country, my life, myself. I experienced some personal pains that stretched the very being of who I am, as well as insurmountable joys that have redefined my perception of suffering, healing, rebirth, and life. That is the long and short of it.

Installing Love

2007-09-02T17:57:00.001-05:00

Thank you to Lina for sharing this:

~*~*~*~

Customer: I am inquiring about installing a new program.

Tech Support: Yes, ... how can I help you?

Customer: Well, after much consideration, I've decided to install Love. Can you guide me through the process?

Tech Support: Yes. I can help you. Are you ready to proceed?

Customer: Well, I'm not very technical, but I think I'm ready. What do I do first?

Tech Support: The first step is to open your Heart. Have you located your Heart?

Customer: Yes, but there are several other programs running now. Is it okay to install Love while they are running?

Tech Support: What programs are running ?

Customer: Let's see, I have Past Hurt, Low Self-Esteem, Grudge and Resentment running right now.

Tech Support: No problem, Love will gradually erase Past Hurt from your current operating system. It may remain in your permanent memory but it will no longer disrupt other programs. Love will eventually override Low Self-Esteem with a module of its own called High Self-Esteem. However, you have to completely turn off Grudge and Resentment. Those programs prevent Love from being properly installed. Can you turn those off ?

Customer: I don't know how to turn them off. Can you tell me how?

Tech Support: With pleasure. Go to your start menu and invoke Forgiveness. Do this as many times as necessary until Grudge and Resentment have been completely erased.

Customer: Okay, done! Love has started installing itself. Is that normal?

Tech Support: Yes, but remember that you have only the base program. You need to begin connecting to other Hearts in order to get the upgrades.

Customer: Oops! I have an error message already. It says, "Error - Program not run on external components." What should I do?

Tech Support: Don't worry. It means that the Love program is set up to run on Internal Hearts, but has not yet been run on your Heart. In non-technical terms, it simply means you have to Love yourself before you can Love others.

Customer: So, what should I do?

Tech Support: Pull down Self-Acceptance; then click on the following files: Forgive-Self; Realize Your Worth; and Acknowledge your Limitations.

Customer: Okay, done.

Tech Support: Now, copy them to the "My Heart" directory. The system will overwrite any conflicting files and begin patching faulty programming. Also, you need to delete Verbose Self-Criticism from all directories and empty your Recycle Bin to make sure it is completely gone and never comes back.

Customer: Got it. Hey! My heart is filling up with new files. Smile is playing on my monitor and Peace and Contentment are copying themselves all over My Heart. Is this normal?

Tech Support: Sometimes. For others it takes awhile, but eventually everything gets it at the proper time. So Love is installed and running. One more thing before we hang up. Love is Freeware. Be sure to give it and its various modules to everyone you meet. They will in turn share it with others and return some cool modules back to you.

Customer: Thank you, God.

Papaya Mom

2007-09-02T17:49:00.001-05:00

What a sweetie! Papaya Mom featured Finding Salihah on her blog.

http://www.papayamom.com/

Big thanks, Papaya Mom!

Learning English

2007-09-02T17:01:00.004-05:00

I came across this little booklet my grandparents were given when they arrived on the shores of the United States as Displaced Persons. It is a whopping 23 pages long. No wonder my grandma went to learning English by watching the Price is Right. She'd also go through newspapers with a red pen, circling any words she knew.

My grandparents citizenship process was under $100. My grandfather worked long hours, full-time, for $50 a month. The mortgage was $45. My grandmother stayed home raising 5 little children, while doing endless piles of laundry and ironing for neighbors all day, all for a total of $1 a week. And yet, my grandmother still found a way to purchase books for her 5 little children, the first Americans in our family, because she believed so deeply in literacy and education.

On another side of the globe, 1500 years ago, the world was told:

"Read! in the name of thy Lord, who created man out of a clot of congealed blood:

Read! And thy Lord is Most Bountiful, He who taught (the use of) the pen. Taught man that which he knew not" (96:1-5)

The first words of the Qur'an revealed and ever recited were a command to read. Reading is the key to knowledge.

Mama Plumbing 101

2007-08-22T13:36:00.002-05:00

My fellow Domestic Diva's...we've done a brake job on my car, now let's move on to Basics of Mama Plumbing 101. The premise goes something like this...

Let's say you have an excited 7 year old, with a brand-new first-time lost tooth. "Mama!" he yells, "I lost a tooth!" Of course "tooth" sounds more like "toof". He runs to the bathroom sink to wash off the tinge of blood and gum yuck left remaining on his prize tooth. Younger brother comes after in tow to watch the gory amazement of wonder unfold.

What do you think happens next?

Yes. That tooth went right down the drain. Rule #1: Don't Cuss. Little ears are listening.

To head off utter devastation, simply grab your trusty plumbers wrench and come with me for your step-by-step guide to salvation of the day. You don't have a plumbers wrench? Follow along anyway, maybe you'll be inspired to grab one next time you find yourself drooling over the Craftsman tools at Sears. Rule #2: If you own a home, a car, or a child, learn to do basic maintenance and have the tools for the job. But don't read blogs for how-to, if you really need help, ask or hire a pro.

Rule #3: Whenever anything goes down the drain, IMMEDIATELY stop the water from running. If too much water goes down the drain, it could force the lost tooth, earring, or ring, right over that curve in the pipe and to the main drain of the house. And I'm not going there.

Mama Plumbing 101 Step 1: Locate water shut-off valve behind sink and turn off. You usually turn this to the right to turn off and to the left to turn on. Think "righty tighty, lefty loosely". Turn on your faucet and turn it off again, just to make sure no water is coming out of your faucet. That means you have the water supply to the sink securely turned off and will thus prevent Niagara Falls from meeting your bathroom floor in the coming steps.

Mama Plumbing 101 Step 2: Get a bucket. A 1 gallon pail works fine. This to catch any water that is still stuck in the trap of the pipe when you remove it.

Mama Plumbing 101 Step 3: Unscrew the pipe that fits into the bottom or back of the sink at the other side of the drain. You may be able to do it by hand, or you may need your wrench. Not your wench, just your wrench. Have that bucket underneath when you do this. You may be working in a really tight area to unscrew the pipe and fit the bucket under. Considering, Mama Plumbers, that some of you have squeezed a baby the size of a watermelon out a hole the size of a lemon, you can handle it!

Mama Plumbing 101 Step 4: Also unscrew the pipe from the wall. Remember, you usually turn left to loosen. Turn the freed pipe piece over the pail for the water to pour out and (hopefully!) the lost tooth...or wedding ring, necklace, earring, or whatever else may have dropped down there. Victory is almost complete!

By the way, do you know why that pipe is curved like that? Each time you turn your water off, the force of the water going down the drain pushed the water down the pipe and out the drain, but a bit of the last of it gets stuck in the curve, or trap, of the pipe. This trapped water and the curve of the pipe serve to prevent toxic and nasty gases from coming up your drain and into your house from the main drain of your home and your sewer. Nifty huh? And if it also happens to be nice for catching anything else that falls down the drain, that makes us happy, too! Your toilet, and other sinks in your home work the same way. But please don't take apart your toilet. I don't want to go there with you.

Mama Plumbing 101 Step 5: Reattach the pipe, same way it came off. Usually turning the pieces to the right to retighten. Make sure this is really tight. Turn your water back on at the supply line, and then turn on the faucet a bit. Have your bucket ready. Look for any dripping at the joints of the pipe. Do not over tighten or you can crack your pipe if it is not metal.

Mama Plumbing 101 Step 6: Wash and dry the rescued tooth well, your hands, and work area.

Mama Plumbing 101 Step 7: Hand tooth to your 7 year old and enjoy his (semi) restored smile!

Tajwidi Qur'an

2007-08-21T22:38:00.002-05:00

This is a beautiful Qur'an. It includes clear and easy to read Arabic script, as well as transliteration, and translation into 21st century modern English. I use mine multiple times a day and love its ease of use and reading. An heirloom for your family and a priceless addition to your home.

To purchase or read more about the Tajwidi Qur'an, visit:

an-noor.org

Also check out:

Beauty...

2007-08-07T12:09:00.002-05:00

Life's showers only magnify our beauty...if we let the rain touch us.

Call on Me, I will answer you

2007-08-07T02:06:00.002-05:00

Late at night, on my moon, and very much longing for my salat, I was longing for peace that seemed distant at a restless night.

A sister happened to send this picture to me late in the night amid it.

I was reminded that the Qur'an says that God is nearer than our jugular vein.

Ameen.

The New Neighbors

2007-08-05T14:05:00.003-05:00

Yesterday I was out in the backyard and noticed a little development in one of the flower beds. Toad houses. Forget about 'Urban Sprawl' and the loss of wildlife and natural habitat...my mother has plans of her own. Who needs PETA or the EPA when my mom is reclaiming the earth for the toads with garden-side planned communities?

Now, I've held my share of toads growing up. If it was summer and I was outdoors, I likely had a grasshopper, frog, toad, snake, worm, grub, spider, june bug, or some other creepy crawly in my grubby hand. I was the kid that would wait for the perfect undercover moment to grab my dad's fishing bait, and run as fast as I could, in my best sneaky stealth, down to the lake to dump the minnows into the water and the earthworms back to the earth. My dad would get really mad, yet I remember feeling rather valiant with my vigilantly justice accomplished.

Toads always peed on my palm when I picked them up. I guess they didn't like me. What teeny creature would want to be scooped out of their realm by a scabby-kneed, grimy handed little girl with pig-tailed hair? But in my youthful exuberance for all things slimy, winged, and legged, I just didn't get the message. I assumed they must be marking me like a dog marks his territory on the corner fire hydrant, and therefore the toads loved me.

I hadn't thought much about those days until yesterday when I spotted the new construction in the neighborhood, taking place in our flower garden amid the petunias and marigolds.

My mother is still young at heart. And yes, I'll admit, the kid in me couldn't resist peeking in one of the houses, just to see if maybe a little warty occupant had moved in.

New House

2007-08-05T13:55:00.001-05:00

Friends have wanted to see my new place. I'm renting a house in the city. My mom is renting the downstairs to help off-set rent. It's small, but cozy. I feel like it's my first real home. We didn't have much at all when we moved in, so we've been finding thrift shop treasures to furnish our new place.

A nerdy note: I did the slide show with Picasa Web Albums. It's a nice way to store your photos, as a back-up of your hard-drive. (As someone who has lost nearly 1000 photos when my hard-drive crashed, take my word and back up!) I use an external hard drive now, but Picasa is also a great option and gives you lots of ways to share your photos with public and private options, embed to your websites, MySpace, or blogs, organize into albums, add captions, store, make slide shows, and even order prints. It offers a free desktop software program for editing and modifying your photos before upload to the web. 1024 MB of storage space. All free! Try Picasa!

Did you know? A Smile is Charity!

2007-07-24T20:38:00.001-05:00

"The Prophet (pbuh) was always smiling and enjoying his sahaba (companions). Smiling is lovely to Allah and lovely to all people. A Smile is charity.

To be solemn means carrying a heavy load, not satisfied with my Lord, having so many complaints. Smiling means satisfaction with the Lord's judgements. Even when displeased with yourself, you should show happiness with people. This character is enough to make everyone happy. Complaining carries another complaint. Being pleased brings another happiness. Especially among people you must show you are pleased.

Give enjoyment to everyone."

Nazim al-Haqqani, Mercy Oceans Book II 1980

SMILE!:

The real man smiles in trouble,
gathers strength from distress,
and grows brave by reflection."
Thomas Paine (1737-1809)

"Don't cry because it's over.
Smile because it happened."
Dr. Seuss (1904-1991)

Smile, it is the key
that fits the lock of everybody's heart."
Anthony D'Angelo,
The College Blue Book

"Wrinkles should merely
indicate where smiles have been."
Mark Twain (1834-1910)

"We must never allow the future to be weighed down by memory. For children have no past, and that is the whole secret of the magical innocence of their smiles."
Milan Kundera (1929---) The Book of Laughter and Forgetting

If you have only one smile in you, give it to the people you love. Don't be surly at home, then go out in the street and start grinning "Good morning" at total strangers."
Maya Angelou (1928--) U.S. author

Anne Wasn't My Idea

2007-07-22T12:32:00.001-05:00

This was shared by my friend Craig this morning. The players are him, his wife, and his two daughters Meghan (age 5) and her little sister Anne... Craig wrote:

"Today we're out to lunch at a favorite Mexican place, Taco Jane's.

So we've finished up, and as we're leaving, Meghan notices a family with two other children. Meghan being Meghan goes up and starts a conversation. It was pretty typical -

"Hi, my name's Meghan, what's your name, I'm 5, isn't this food good..."

that sort of thing....until.... she notices that there are two kids and begins a her conversation about some of the feelings she has about her sister, Anne, and the circumstances of her birth. I'll quote verbatim now:

MEGHAN: "I have a baby sister, too. Her name's Anne."

THE KIDS' MOM: "That's nice."

MEGHAN: "Yeah, she wasn't my idea," (Pause) "She was my mom's idea".

MEGHAN continues: "She wasn't adopted."

The other kids look at her. This 5 year old is different than the 5 year olds they know. Little do they know how different. But they will with Meghan's next words...

MEGHAN: "She came from my mom's vagina."

I had no idea my wife could turn that red."

My Sister...

2007-07-20T09:30:00.001-05:00

Isn't she amazingly talented?!
Guys, take a number now...this girl is newly SINGLE!!!
Just imagine...you could wake up to this every morning for the rest of your life!

New Blog!

2007-07-18T09:27:00.000-05:00

I'm thinking of starting a new blog. With my divorce and new leaves turning, peace and joy like I've never had before in my life, maybe it'd be good to start a whole new blog, new theme, new style, the new me. I'd keep this one online still. But all new posts would be on the new one. Thoughts? Ideas? Complaints? Comments from the peanut gallery?

Finding Salihah...a certain someone suggested, "Salihah Found"...hmmm.

MySpace

2007-07-15T22:20:00.000-05:00

My sister has a page on MySpace. Katie's MySpace Page

Notice that it is set to private. That means I can't see her page. So I made my own page, and she has not added me to her friend list. Hmmmm, maybe she has a secret life? Romance, intrigue, mystery, and adventure? Or maybe she just has an entire MySpace page about how lame her sister is? If you're on MySpace and you're her friend, you gotta give me the scoop on her secret life. Inquiring minds want to know.

Dalal wa Salaam!

2007-07-15T21:21:00.002-05:00

I just realized I never posted any pics from my dance troupe! We've been dancing together for hmmm, is it almost 2 years now? We are an American Tribal style middle eastern dance troupe, with a flair of fushion of our own style mixed in for fun. I don't perform publicly, but I love my troupe and they are my sisters!

My sisters of troupe Dalal wa Salaam...

The Squirrel Lady

2007-07-15T21:14:00.001-05:00

My mother is truly odd. I now know this is true. I mean, I had my suspicions for years, but really, there is a line that once crossed, only confirms what we truly know already to be truth deep within.

I'll just say it. My mom is a Squirrel Lady. You know of a Cat Lady, right? The sort of woman, usually single, older, lonely, with 7 cats names things like Delphinia or Miss Precious Fluff Princess IV. Well, I don't think my mom is THAT bad, but yesterday I did count 7 squirrels in our yard. While our neighbors are busy trying to out-smart the squirrels with the latest pest prevention equipment from Home Depot, my mother is busy putting a jar of generic peanut butter in the crook of the maple tree trunk, or restocking a little dish of feed corn. Did I tell you that some of them have names?

Before you think I am cruel and mean, just realize, my family DOES read my blog, I just don't care anymore. They are all nuts and this is my only outlet of sanity other than having my genes altered to make me unrelated to them all...if anyone knows a clinic that does this, please email me. My mom is currently without an internet connection however, so the little secret of how odd I think my mother is remains between you and me. At least until she gets online again.

A Brake Job with Salihah

2007-07-14T20:47:00.002-05:00

Some of my more devoted fans may remember the "Clean Your Van with Salihah" post. Well, the van is a mess again, but today I had bigger fish to fry...brakes. So come along for a pictorial tour of how to replace your car brakes. And just for the foolish or outright stupid...let me say this first: Consult an experienced professional mechanic to replace your brakes, do not use my blog post as expert or professional advice.

Let's start by taking a look at an important something called a rotor. Boys and girls, please tell me what is wrong with this picture? Did you say that the left rotor looks like sh&%? Yes! Very good, 10 points to you. If you also screamed in horror at the thought of someone driving around with a rotor like that, you get another 10 points. If you are still saying, "Salihah, what the heck is a rotor? Is that like a motor?" Deduct 1o points and see this link: What the heck is a rotor?

If you are saying, "Salihah, you are such trailer trash, you do your own brakes?!" You have a complete lack of appreciation for the true Domestic Diva that I am. Go read some scrapbooking mom's blog.

Moving right along, let's try another one...see the picture at the left? What is the deal with these brake pads? Did you say someone should have replaced that right one MONTHS ago? Yes! You are right! When you replace your brake pads, there should still be some brake pad left. The one on the right is nothing but a steel backing. No, boys and girls, that is not what we want for our brake pads. If you are saying, "Salihah, I still don't get this, what is a brake pad? Is that like a menstrual pad?" Slap yourself upside the head and then see: What is a brake pad

Now, when I do brakes, I don't like to mess with a little annoying brake line. That's because I was being lazy and didn't want to bleed the lines. So, instead, the caliper is propped up on a rock with the line still attached. But of course, as car repairs always go, the Unplanned happens. The caliper is not moving, it is completely froze up. Grrrrr. This is when your mechanic adds another few hundred dollars to your bill.

"And that C-clamp, Salihah, what is that all about?", well Salihah is cheap and she doesn't want to pay for new calipers. So once a upon a time, her daddy taught her a few little tricks that involve a c-clamp thing called calipers. If you note at the right, I have not removed the and a rubber mallet, followed by a good smothering of something called Anti-Seize and then you just put the rusty thing all back together and use it for another 30,000 miles. Many will also add some four letter words to this process, but I find it unnecessary. My dad feels otherwise, as anyone in a 1/2 mile radius of his garage well knows.

Of course we all love WD-40. When in doubt, grab duct tape or WD-40. Duct tape isn't really going to help with this situation (although my dad knows a guy named Pineapple who *claims* to have made a replacement fan belt out of braided duct tape, but I don't endorse the validity of such stories, especially from truckers named Pineapple.) So, left with the other result, I used a liberal dose of every Domestic Diva girl's best friend, WD-40.

After lots of spraying, pounding, pushing, spraying, and pounding again, I am left with this very sad result:

If at this point, you look at this picture and get tears in your eyes at such a sorrowful sight, you get 10 more points. Yes it is sad. Salihah failed, all her pounding and pushing availed not and victory was not hers to own today. Tomorrow she will be in line at the auto parts store grumbling her request for a caliper. And because this is a Ford Crown Victoria that used to be a police car, that means it has whopper huge, heavy-duty calipers...can you say $$$$$. Maybe my dad is on to something with those four-letter words.

At this point, delirium usually starts to set in. You may start to see the caliper open and close, but it really isn't. You're in denial. Before you move on to accepting your sordid plight, you may go through feelings of sadness, anger, and delirium. You may think that those brake bolts are antennae and you're an alien from a planet where calipers have never existed. Just hang in there through this brief moment of euphoria. You will get through it. And if you're lucky enough, you will have acted so strangely that your neighbors won't even dare to bring it up next time they wave hello.

So there you have it folks. Stay tuned for visiting your local auto parts store without getting ripped off because you're a girl, replacing calipers, bleeding brake lines, and how to get a tooth out of the sink drain after your overly exuberant 6 year old dropped down his newly lost tooth.

Brake job at a mechanic? $400-$600.

Doing it yourself? Brake pads $20. Rotors $70. Acting like a moron in your driveway...priceless.

Can We All Say Ouch?

2007-06-30T18:01:00.001-05:00

I had surgery the other day. Yup, that sure was fun.

Let me tell you, if you ever get a day off from work, don't spend it at the hospital. Girl parts surgery, too. It sort of reminds me of making a quilt...you cut up a bunch of fabric, only to sew it back together again. Why? That's kind of what surgery is like except in my experience as both a quilter and a patient...surgery hurts a lot more.

So then, since this was out-patient surgery, they wanted to get me moving as soon as I came awake. Then they tried to get me to stand up. My vision fades, my face goes numb, my ears ring, and it feels like all my blood pools in my feet. Suddenly a bunch of people come in. I guess my blood pressure went from 110/60 to 72/44. Then my pulse dropped to 40 beats per minute. And my oxygen, well someone shoved an oxygen mask on my face, plopped me back down flat, and I was back to normal in a few minutes and after a few shots into my IV of something that made my heart feel like it was pounding out of my chest.

The above scenerio repeats the next three times they try to just sit me upright. I pass out and wake up later checked into the hospital in a dark room and all sorts of nonsense stuck on me and into me that beeb and hum. A nurse keeps coming in and checking on me. She's really nice and gives me some graham crackers and juice. I like her.

In a nutshell, I'm home now and I'm supposed to "take it very easy". What does that mean? I'm not sure I know how to do that.

Oxycodone...hmm, these are kind of interesting. You swallow the magic pill and soon nothing matters anymore but the inside of your eyelids. I guess they figured I wouldn't take it easy so they shoved this bottle of pills at me.

Java Baby!

2007-06-30T15:02:00.000-05:00

So some cute little javascripts have now given me drop-down menus at the right side of my blog! No more huge long list of links, everything is all neat in orderly! Woohoo!

Cheat and make javascripts for your own page using this funky little treasure of a tool:

EchoEcho Drop-down Tool

What I've Been Up To...

2007-06-15T10:28:00.002-05:00

I found these amazing shoes at Savers, yes Savers. They were 50% off, and came to a whopping $3.00. I think they are fabulous. LouAnna thinks they are rather garish, but as she says, it's my feet they are on.

As usual, not everyone appreciates my style. Remember Sylvi's Groovin' Jacket and these other shoes?

By the way, if you haven't noticed, I have an addiction to stripped socks. It is so bad that one of my cousins says that whenever she sees any thing with stripes on it, she thinks of me.

Here is my fav source for socks:
Sock Dreams

These are next on my wish list Rainbow Toes from Sock Dreams. But dang, the price!

Where was I? Oh yes, what I've been up to. This is long, complicated, and not the sort of thing anyone wants to read, so I will summarize. If you require the details, I will try to post about it in a more amusing tone than it actually occurred.

1. I am divorced
Summary: long and complicated, ten years. I wish him no pain and only peace, but it was no longer right for me to continue in the sort of situations that existed. Ironicly, I now have a peace, security, and calm that I've never had before.

2. My computer crashed
Summary:I know, it doesn't sound like much, but when you've worked from home and use your computer for all your work, family photos, diary/journaling, and artistic/graphic pursuits, it's a real bummer. I lost all my essays and articles I'd written, all my photos and graphics, software, and my entire hard drive. Thankfully, the computer was salvaged thanks to LouAnna, the hard drive just needed to be wiped out. Please do not bring up the two-worded phrase: "back-ups"...yes I have an external hard-drive and that is another story all in its own.

3. I moved to the city
Summary: I now live in the heart of Minneapolis, in a multi-ethnic neighborhood I love. Cozy little house, and a small yard for the children. They are outside all the time. All wood floors means no more carpet stains. And my mom moved in downstairs so we share the rent. I love it here.

4. I'm still recovering from my last two miscarriages
Summary: what can I say? See My Baby I Love You

5. Life is good.
Summary: circumstances come and go, difficulty comes and goes. Peace and happiness, true peace and happiness, comes from what we have INSIDE us, in our heart and soul. It isn't about what surrounds us. Panic, anxiety, and fear...those are finally passing traits because I found the key to my peace...my body may be touched and wounded by disease, accident, and pain. My emotions may be touched by worry, despair, and anguish. But my heart and soul...God alone is the only One who can touch that.

Biryani Breakfast

2007-06-15T09:46:00.000-05:00

Maybe Biryani isn't the best thing to eat for breakfast, but it works for me. Of course, this is what biryani is supposed to look like:

Yum, huh? But considering it is early morning and my biryani is leftovers left in a pyrex container in the fridge over night chased down with a Dr.Pepper, my actual breakfast looks like this:

I guess I already ate most of it, so it couldn't have been that bad. And yes, I know, Dr. Pepper is a nasty and terrible thing to drink, especially for breakfast. But aren't I entitled to a few bad habits? Ok, so sometimes I laugh at inappropriate times and I don't return phone calls as fast as I should. And my family and friends could probably add a lengthy list of my other bad and/or annoying habits, but they are prohibited from doing so as this is my blog and I reserve the right to say whatever I want. They can get their own blog.

Besides, I'm not alone. Surviving also resorts to an occasional unhealthy pleasure of swigging down Dr.Pepper to get through her day. Why am I feel exhausted on a Friday morning? This is my first week of doing child care. These 5 little children may be small (all under age 6), but they have enough spunk and energy to outdo the greatest of triathlons. And it is my solemn duty to make sure they are happy, fed, safe, and clean for 10 hours a day. So I don't always succeed at the clean part and we probably have more fun than we should because somehow they bring out the 4 year old in me. Is it possible to love your job and still be absolutely exhausted at the end of the day? I think so.

Back to work...I need to clean up this little love offering I found on the kitchen floor. People say when a cat brings their owner a dead mouse, it is a gift of love. So, I am going to be hopelessly optimistic and assume when I find an ice cream cone on the floor from one of the Natives, it is meant as a love offering.

Salihah - Missing in Action!!

2007-06-09T19:41:00.000-05:00

Wow, where have I been? No, I did not drive off a cliff, and I don't have a white LandRover. It seems like it's been ages since I've posted. Is anyone still checking my blog or has my readership given up on my slacking ways?

If you're still hanging around, thank you, then I don't have to feel like I am talking to myself. Plus, you get all the juicy gossip of what has had me away from so long. Do you want the dramatic version, the comedic version, or the "Reader's Digest Condensed Version", as my friend LouAnna would say. I guess I'll get to it all soon enough. I'll just say for now, a lot has changed around here.

I want to overhaul my blog again. I'm sort of tired of whimsy flowers...how about you? Or should I leave it? I was thinking of something new, but not sure what yet. I moved into a new house and am in a decorating mood...it's spilling over into my internet realm.

Beading with Surviving

2007-04-23T01:25:00.001-05:00

Surviving and I have been getting together about once a week for our mother-of-young-boys sanity sessions. This usually involves us telling each other our latest confessions of the past week, arguing about who's house is messier (mine is!!), chasing down assorted kiddos, and delving into our beading or knitting projects, but usually laughing and chattering too much to get much of anything done...but that's the whole point isn't it? I've found myself rather addicted to beading lately.

Memory Wire Bracelet

Shayla Stick Pin

Pampered Afternoon

2007-04-23T01:11:00.002-05:00

The other day, I stopped by my friend Am's house for an unexpected visit. She fed me a delicious lunch, did henna on my hands, gave a beautiful hijab/niqab set, and boosted my day with her smile and laughter.

Here's the henna...

Masha'Allah, I think she did a wonderful job!

Quirky Nomads Podcast

2007-04-13T16:33:00.001-05:00

I didn't really know what a podcast even was...that's how behind-the-times I am. But the other day, Sage of Quirky Nomads, contacted me to ask if she could do a podcast on the Back to the Smiles blog entry.

About Quirky Nomads: "The story of a family that said, 'If the Republicans get any worse, we're moving to Canada.' And then? They really did."

Here is the podcast Sage did: QuirkyNomads.com

Thanks so much, Sage! You have a great voice talent and I loved the music. Thanks for introducing me to podcasting. It was really fun getting to know you and your blog!

Well, They Are Virgins...

2007-04-13T16:27:00.002-05:00

Sorry, I couldn't resist. Thanks to Jamilla for sharing this pic!

Land of the Free, Home of the Brave

2007-04-06T13:57:00.002-05:00

But I still believe in America.

Toothpaste Art

2007-03-18T22:34:00.002-05:00

This is my 100th blog post. That's a lot of time I should have been doing something else. A couple of my children created some toothpaste art, thought I would share, in honor of time well wasted.

And they didn't think they'd get caught, how cute.

A Word from Am

2007-03-17T09:47:00.001-05:00

A small handful of cashiers at Twin Cities Target stores do not want to touch pork. They rather have the customer scan it themselves, or a non-Muslim employee. Oh my gosh. Am at her blog, "Paved Paradise", says it all, I have nothing more to add!

"Muslim Pharisees Attack!"

The Domestic Wife

2007-03-16T21:42:00.001-05:00

I've done some updating on my lately neglected blog:
The Domestic Wife
Check out the new posts!

Why Oh Why?!

2007-03-16T13:27:00.001-05:00

I came across this link: "Swampatorium" from the MDC Yarn Crafts forum. OMG, please tell me why someone would do this? These are images of REAL knitting patterns from McCall's Needlework 1965:

Yikes.

Ok, Back to the Smiles

2007-03-16T10:43:00.001-05:00

I don't usually lose my smile for too long. Honestly, I've had some mighty strange experiences in my life. My doctors called them "temporal lobe epileptic seizures", but I call them "life is dang short, better be grateful for each and every day". I've been seizure free for over almost 7 years now. I can drive. I can use knives and glass when I cook and eat. I can take baths alone. Life is good. But I've learned a few things...

1. Adults can wet their pants and foam at the mouth and not be drunk or have rabies.

2. The Salem witch trials were hundreds of years ago, but some Christians today still think seizures are caused by demons and think it's ok to try to "lay hands" on you. Just be nice. They're just trying to help. But really, God made me and I'm ok.

3. Life is short and you never know what the next moment holds. Life for today, live right now.

4. Learn to laugh at yourself. Laughter is a balm of healing, it is a physical gift that gives us emotional joy and peace, and is scientifically shown to improve healing and health.

So, I may not have been laughing over the last couple weeks, it was a hard time, it still is. My family and close friends have heard my sadness and tears. But I do find my smile again eventually, it's inherited from my family. I wanted to share my first smile I found again with you...

We went for a drive yesterday. Just Canada_Jr, youngest son, and I. I am supposed to be on bedrest, but I needed to get out and it was a beautiful day with Spring lightly scenting the Minnesota crisp air. We ended up in a really small town out in very rural Minnesota. We stopped at a gas station so Canada_Jr could call the Islamic school where he teaches an after-school fitness program to the children. He wanted to cancel class that afternoon because of the passing of our unborn little one and needing to stay with me for a couple days. Now for the next part of this story, you need to visualize where we were...Small rural Minnesota town, gas station pay phone, elderly gentleman fueling up his Buick, young couple on a bench by the door eating a hot dog, fisherman fueling his car at another pump. Homemade signs advertise a sale on pizza and chips in the window. All-American, beautiful day in small town American...ok, let's continue..

Canada_Jr tells the man that answers the phone about our baby passing and the miscarriage a week later, that is just happened and that he wanted to be with me. Upon hearing of a death, a Muslim replies by saying, "'Innaa lillaahi wa 'innaa ilayhi rajioon" (From God we belong and to Him we return.) The man on the phone said this, and then the man said, "Allahu Akbar" ('God is the greatest', i.e. God is greater than anything, He is over our situation, All-Merciful. A phrase of comfort, knowing God is greater than anything that we struggle with. This phrase should have nothing to do with terrorists. But I know that's what you first thought when you read "Allahu Akbar". It doesn't mean terrorism, it means what I said).

The man on the phone waits. Canada_Jr is silent. I am sitting in the car, in the sun with my window down, a nice breeze. I see my Canada_Jr husband squirm. He is blonde, blue-eyed, Scandinavian bred, talking on a pay phone in small town America surrounded by good American country folk eating hot dogs on a nice Spring-like day. The man on the phone says it again, "Allahu Akbar!" thinking Canada_Jr must not heard him. He clenches his jaw, takes a look around at small-town America and all the nice folks surrounding him and whispers back into the phone uncomfortably, "Allahu Akbar."

He rigidly comes back to the car, starts the ignition, and looks at me. "Don't ever get in a situation where you have to speak Arabic in small-town USA, especially saying "Allahu Akbar" at a pay phone. People might misunderstand."

I smiled, thinking of him all-American blonde, blue-eyed him saying "Allahu Akbar" into a pay phone surrounded by small-town USA. Who'd have ever thought. What would his redneck grandparents think? And then I laughed. It felt good to laugh again.

My Baby, I Love You.

2007-03-12T16:14:00.002-05:00

My baby died last Monday, in my womb, and the labor pains and bleeding is beginning today, one week later. This is my 3rd miscarriage, another birth of a baby already died before being born, labor with empty arms. I am so immensely thankful to have other children that are with me, in my home and in my arms. I also have three in Paradise, but I miss those three. I read the following, and it was helpful to me. I wanted to share it, if it may be of comfort to another...

Jesus said, peace upon him: "Suffer little children to come onto me For their's is the Kingdom of Heaven"

Jewish Rabbis teach that we are supposed to recognize that difficult experiences are given by G-d for us to learn something very important - and we are supposed to accept them with love. Sadness is not meant to be a pit that we fall into, stuck, depressed and unmoving for years or even the rest of our lives. In the Jewish view, difficult life experiences are meant to be more like a springboard, a catalyst, a spark to light a flame. We are meant to take that suffering, and do something holy with it- translate it into something positive, and to make the world a better place because of it. (jewishpregnancy.org

In Islam, Muhammad said, peace upon him: "No two parents lost three children except God will cause the parents to enter Paradise through the favor of His mercy toward them." They said, "What about two, Messenger of Allah?" He said, "Two also." They said, "And one?" He said, "Even the miscarried child will certainly drag its mother and father with its umbilical cord to Heaven!"

"Whoever sends forth two or three children that never reached puberty, they will be for him and her, a strong fortress [in the hereafter]."

"Your little ones are [in] Paradise. They will meet their parents and grab them by their garments or their hands to no end other than that God will enter them Paradise." Sahih Muslim.

"I swear that a miscarried child of mine I send forth before me is more beloved to me than [raising] a mounted knight that survives me."

Allah Most High creates us and appoints lifespans. He tests us through ease and hardship "and with hardship goes ease" (Qur'an 94:5-6), expiating our sins and raising us in His presence. "And surely We shall try you with something of fear and hunger, and loss of wealth and lives and crops; but give glad tidings to the steadfast, Who say, when a misfortune strikes them: Lo! we belong to God and Lo! unto Him we are returning. Such are they on whom are blessings from their Lord, and mercy. Such are the rightly guided" (Qur'an 2:155-157).

Time brings solace but the first shock is the test as it naturally inspires rebellion against the Divine decree. The Believer has protection against this normal impulse as Allah Most High said: “No calamity befalls save by God's leave. And whosoever believes in God, He guides his heart” (Qur'an 64:11).

"We came as beautiful from Allah. We will go to Allah as beautiful. We have come from Allah, we are going back to Allah. We were seen as one drop, and we have turned into huge oceans. A person might be seen as a small thing, but he is the mystery of all of creation, of all of the universes. So you're carrying a huge world. If we know our own worth, we will gain our character, and exalt.

May Allah make us beautiful human beings.

This is our one point. When we step on this point of beauty and goodness, then the beauty and goodness of all of our lives will come, and all existence is hidden within there. Even if you suffer difficulties it will be beautiful. If you cry it will be beautiful. Even if you receive punishment it will be beautiful. If you cry it will be beautiful, if you laugh it will be beautiful. If you are poor, it will be beautiful. If you are rich, it will be beautiful...So we have to give praise, hamd, to every state we are in.

Be thankful, and always say this: Ya Rabb, make us beautiful human beings, and allow us the nasib to walk on this beautiful path." Sherif Baba

I am thankful for my faith, with such a spiritual and religious acknowledgment of miscarriage, with comfort to those parents that walk that path. I have personally learned, that when all seems dark, God's light truly is most obvious to us, and it shines so brightly. From God we come, and to Him we all return.

Peace.

19" of Snow & One Idiot

2007-03-11T10:16:00.002-05:00

The details:
Click Here to Read

Below is the dumb brother of mine that went out for a drive and lost the road. He was so far from anywhere (as you can well see) that he had to walk for a long few miles until he found a farmer with a backhoe to pull him out. Do you like his initial attempt at digging out with a shovel? Dude, you managed to get 100 ft down off the road in 20" of snow...that'd be a lot of shoveling. Good thing it didn't take you too long to figure out that the shovel wasn't going to cut it. Way to go winner!

Cultural Learnings

2007-03-08T12:20:00.001-06:00

Sometimes I think my mother knows me too well. Yesterday, she stopped by with an assortment of odds and ends, including...

Wild Women...a book she wanted to lend me, assorted stories of, "Crusaders, Curmudgeons, and Completely Corsetless Ladies in the Otherwise Virtuous Victorian Era"

Borat...on DVD, "Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan", a comedy with endless censored scenes. An, um, interesting look at America. A bit too much of it reminded me of a couple of my family members, Waldemar and Mahat. Yes, Borat may be a bit too close to home. I laughed a little too hard.

Bollywood Hollywood...Well, just look at the picture of it, enough said.

Where are My Feet?

2007-03-07T12:21:00.001-06:00

I seem to have lost my footing for a bit. I missed the FM107 Breakfast Blog I was scheduled for on Tuesday morning. I haven't seen the bottom of the kitchen sink for too long, and the kitchen floor? Yikes. But Sunday was really special. I finally returned to my dance troupe for a special American Tribal Workshop in Anoka. Anita is amazing teacher, inspiring. Dancing again with all those dear women, it was really wonderful, I missed it so much. That special sisterhood time, just us gals, and an ancient dance fused with an American tribal twist. Just what I needed. I don't want to miss class ever again. You ladies are awesome.

Yesterday my mom came over. She worked some sort of magic while I was resting in the bedroom watching documentaries about the geology of the Great Lakes region (yes, I have an inner geek in me). I came out into the kitchen and saw the floor. I never heard a power sander, or a jackhammer. How did she do it? I have no idea. And clean dishes. It must have taken a high-pressure hose and a chemical safety suit. Amazing. Gosh, I love my mom. I can't thank her enough. She is truly one of a kind.

Yes, I think I will my feet again...and they'll even dancing.

A Blessed Gift

2007-03-07T11:54:00.001-06:00

I wasn't going to blog about this...mostly because I just did not all that long ago. But today I was parked in front of the computer, lost in blog-world, catching up with my fellow bloggers whom I haven't been online enough to keep up with lately. I was reading LouAnna's blog right when my other friend called. We are talking, she's a big comfort to me over a very recent and painful ordeal, when all of a sudden, I read on LouAnna's blog that my friend on the phone is pregnant.

Alhamdulillah. This girl deserves to be a mom. She is already an amazing mother. Knowing about this blessed gift of her pregnancy, and the blessed gift of LouAnna's blog entry...has helped in healing a terrible ache in me. Praise God, alhamdulillah.

To my dear friends, you both are a blessed gift.

To all parents that have children that did not have their date of death before their date of birth...hold your little ones. Hug them often. No matter what troubles come your way, no matter how difficult it may be, always make sure they know that you love them. They are a blessed gift. If you don't have children, take a moment sometime to help a child see their infinite value and be happy to be who they are.

The XBox Champion

2007-03-03T10:13:00.002-06:00

Back in the day, I used to be able to hold my own with video games. I had a youthful-minded uncle that initiated me into the world of Nintendo. At one point, our family even got my Opa to play Duck Hunt. Now that was something.

But over the passing decade and a half, my zeal for technology has gone from Mario Bros. Super Star to Dirt Devil Domestic Diva. I find myself unabashedly attentive to commercials for Dyson vacuums, electric scissors, and food dehydrators. I remember being especially envious of a family member who has a deluxe George Foreman grill that included a bun warmer. You can laugh all you want. Had you seen that cadillac of counter-top grilling, you'd be green with envy, too.

In an effort to reclaim my youthfulness, yesterday I challenged my six year old son to an XBox game of Lego Star Wars. Here is the play-by-play:

While steering a speeder bike through the forest of the Ewok's, my son hollers at me...
"Mom! Can you please stop running into trees?!"

"Mom! Hurry up! C'mon, Mom!"

...and finally..."Mom, you just stay there. I'll just do this part for you."

What can I say. The controllers these days have like 135 buttons on them. It's like trying to decipher a remote control battalion just to operate the TV, VCR, DVD player, or cable. Who needs it.

I'm going to go browse eBay now for that deluxe George Foreman grill.

UmmahMuslimah!

2007-03-01T18:00:00.000-06:00

Come join us in a new forum for women by women...with an Islamic focus! Whether you are a Muslimah, just interested in learning about Islam, or looking for interfaith discussion in our Interfaith Forum...you're welcome to join us!

The site was literally brought online just yesterday, so discussions and membership are just getting started! Jump on in and join us!

Only women can join...sorry guys, this ones for us!

See you at UmmahMuslimah!

In the Year 2000

2007-02-25T13:17:00.001-06:00

If you watch Conan O'Brian regularly, you'll know just how to sing the title of this blog post. If not, you're missing out on a funny show.
In the year 2007, I will cast off my shroud of antiquity and join the modern age. Yes folks, I am moving up to Blogger Beta. I was scared at first, too, I mean html is rather comfy cozy for me. Codes and typing out lengthly scripts everytime I want to add a link or adjust my template, it's just the way things are. Or are they?

Blogger comes up with some new fangeled gizmo called Beta which allows you to run your blog and customize it without ever touching html. Reminds me of what people must have thought when the first man suggested "the Horseless Carriage". Really, no horses? No html to script? Surely the world has gone mad.

But in a bold attempt of my own, to avoid becoming a passe fossil, laden with dust that time forgot, I will be converting my entire blog over to the Modern Age. And I don't get paid a cent for this, I must be a glutton for punishment.

Hang on tight, it might get rather wonky looking here for awhile as I format my familiar classic template html to the ultra-fad new "Widgets". This involves 22 pages of my customized html...may God help us all. Here we go!
**UPDATE!! I'm done! The conversion is complete!**

The Prayer Unspoken

2007-02-24T15:00:00.001-06:00

Author Rabbi Levy says that everyone knows how to pray. As a rabbi she is often told by people that they simply just don't know how to pray, how to reach out to God, sometimes which seems so abstract or distant from the communication we know and understand. She states, "anyone can pray. There are, of course, the prayers that were written long ago and have been codified into liturgy. But there are also the spontaneous prayers that flow from our hearts. They might not appear to be as beautifully crafted, but they are infused with an eloquence that is just as powerful-the passion of a soul crying out.....

There are prayers with no words at all. They are the thoughts that we don't even have to utter. Hagar and her son Ishmael were lost in the desert, dying of hunger and thirst. The Bible [and Qur'an, I add] tells us that God heard the cry of the child. Nowhere in the narrative does it say that the child cried out TO God. So how could God hear the cry? The answer, according to one interpretation, is that there are cries that are silent and are heard by no one. But God hears even our silent cries.

Every one of us has a different prayer on our lips. Some of us cry out in bitter protest. Some whisper a secret longing. Others weep in pain. Our needs may be vastly different, but ultimately all prayers contain the same yearning: to be heard."

A Muslim writer, Saniyasnain Khan, states, "Allah declares Himself in the Qur'an that He is "the one who hears all prayers." Allah is so close to us that He uses the image of running in our own bloodstream. He says that He is closer to us than our own jugular vein."

Christian theologian Adam Clarke pondered, "Prayer requires more of the heart than the tongue."

Sometimes it seems the prayers we never dare to speak or utter in formal prayer, are the very ones that God desires to hear the most. I am grateful our God is all-Knowing and hears the pains,longings, sorrows, or thanksgiving that we may never speak.

Petty Porkers

2007-02-19T10:16:00.001-06:00

I had heard rumors that a fellow "granola girl" mom was catching heck from the pork industry because she was making pro-breastfeeding T-shirts that said, "The Other White Milk". So, I come to find that my good friend Am has the inside scoop on this rumor and a link to the t-shirt selling mom. Check it out at:

Paved Paradise Blog

According to a lame accusation by the pork industry, the Lactivists' slogans are an "apparent attempt to promote the use of breastmilk beyond merely for infant consumption"...what?? Apparently the pork industry is way out of touch with the modern American female consumer of today. We're an educated group that prefers healthy choices over mass lard consumption (aka pork), including the fact that breastmilk is best for babies. What is the world coming to...hopefully a lot less pork consumption. Future colons and arteries will thank us.

Check out the Bad Effects of Pork Consumption section from the Pork! You are What You Eat website.

Or consider how "advanced" we are these days with a look into a "modern" slaughter house where your yummy pork is prepared Top Ten Reasons Not to Eat Pork.

Grossed out yet? No kidding. Sorry Jimmy Dean, but you're naaaasty!

The Question

2007-02-14T20:44:00.001-06:00

Right now one of my sons is trying to make a yo-yo out of an apple core and a long piece of thread he ripped off my sewing machine. One of my other sons has torn off his diaper and clothes and is running/skipping/jumping in a circle naked while making choo-choo noises like a train. The cat is drinking out of the fish tank again. The fish are trying to bite at his tongue.

What is that saying about when you think that everyone around you is crazy that maybe you are the one that actually is?

I don't think that's true. I think everyone else here is crazy, not me.

20 Million Miles to Earth

2007-02-13T12:53:00.002-06:00

Laundry day, seven loads to do and I am all alone. All by myself. I still am not quite sure what to do with such an occasion. I mean, usually I can't even go to the bathroom or take a shower without some little munchkin banging on the door bellowing, "Maaaaamaaaaa, are yoooooou in theeeeere?"

So I load up the washer, make a sandwich, and kick up my feet with some knitting. I spot the remote control laying on the end table. It is just laying there, no man is attached to it. It lays there, boldly and unmolested. Hmm, I purse my lips. And tentatively, very tentatively, I reach out and grab it. I feel the cold plastic in my hand, the soft rubber buttons beneath my fingertips. I surge of power comes over me as I contemplate all the possibilities that lay ahead of me. No, no, this time I wouldn't be watching talking head politicians or movies about fast cars that explode while in mid-air. A woman has the remote now, and things are going to be different.

Gloating with myself, I begin flipping through the on screen guide. A movie would be great, a good chick flick. Finding the movie category, I begin scanning through the titles. Starting with the letter "A", I find..

"After Dark My Sweet" 1990
'After escaping from a mental hospital, an ex-boxer meets a widow who convinces him to help her fix-up her ex-husband's estate. That's when her uncle steps in with a truly crazy plan! Raise the funds by kidnapping a rich boy!'

"Author! Author!" 1982
'A neurotic New York playwrite faces an impending Broadway opening while juggling an adulterous wife, anxiety-ridden friends, a new girlfriend, and a disintegrating family of five kids, only of which one is his!'

"20 Million Miles to Earth" 1956
'Plunging into the Mediterranean Sea, the first spaceship to Venus returns with a stow-a-way on board - a small gooey blob that grows into a giant reptilian creature rampaging through Rome!'

And that's just the first of 26 letters of the English alphabet. The cable provider plays a jingle in the background of the on-screen guide, "We're flying you beyond the competition!"

That's for sure. I end up watching a musical from 1946 titled, Cabin in the Sky, with an all-black cast including a performance by a very youthful Louis Armstrong. If I am discovered banging my head against the washer in a dazed stuppor while muttering lyrics to a 1940's musical, it isn't my fault. It all started with that wretched remote control.

Bigot Lessons

2007-02-11T13:32:00.002-06:00

Dear Bigots at Northtown Mall,

If you're going to be mean, fine. I mean, honestly. Shopping in a town actually called "Coon Rapids", with a highway coined the "Red-neck bottleneck", some asinine behavior should be expected. Let's just get a few things straight so your IQ level doesn't drop any further here.

"Rag-head", "Camel jockey", and "Sand n****r". Ok, I'll give you points for creativity. But really, that Southern drawl in your otherwise Midwest accent makes you sound even more ignorant than you may already be.

Too bad your vocabulary is limited to just English. Most the people you are making jokes about speak multiple languages. Thus, you miss out on what all the beaners, krauts, ragheads, wetbacks, and other assorted "boat people" call you back in return. When one speaks that many languages, one has a lot of vernacular to choose from when being confronted with someone as inspiring as yourself.

After building your railroads from sea to shining sea, running your plantations, building your White House, US Capitol, and Washington Monument, fighting your wars, and otherwise building your nation from the ground up...I mean, really, that gives one time to think. You want to tell US about the American dream?

I guess some of the Founding Fathers should "go home", too. Afterall, they were immigrants.

All immigrants

By the way, my bigot friend...are you Inuit or First Nation? Hmmm. I guess your family hasn't always ate apple pie and driven Chevrolets to the baseball game either. But don't you worry, we won't tell your friends.

Besides, you're in good company.

---

The New Colossus

...A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!"
cries she With silent lips.

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

—Emma Lazarus, 1883

---

P.S. And to all those with that Confederate flag in the back window of your pick-up...next time try to pick the winning side, eh? Have some pride. THIS IS OUR FLAG:

A Day with Salihah's Mom - Part 2

2007-02-04T20:30:00.001-06:00

DAY 2...

We're back on the Interstate and meander our way to the other end of the Twin Cities. We're determined to find a certain dealership. My mom clutches the Carsoup.com print outs and calls for further directions. I feel her waning trust in navigation skills. Again my nickname as "The Navitard" rings true! After crossing I-35 more times than we care to admit, we find the elusive County Road J and feel mighty proud of ourselves. In fact, we're gloating as we jive and shimmy giving each other high-fives. Yes, we're women, hear us roar!

Well, for a few minutes anyway. Wouldn't you know County Road J ends with large construction signs that read, "Bridge Out Ahead!" I pull off the side of the road and put on my hazard lights while I bang my head on the steering wheel. One son laughs at me. My mom calls again for directions. Meanwhile a red-neck pick-up truck with Dixie decals roars by and honks at us. Dude, don't f&*^in' mess with me.

We lift our chins, push our shoulders back, and pull back onto the road. We're determined to find this dealership. It's called Bob's Auto Ranch...I mean for heaven sake, how could you not want to see a place called that? I'm imagining something out of National Lampoons movies, cowboys in chaps with fringe, wielding lassos, and cadillacs with long-horns on the hood. Cool.

Finally, we pull into the "The Ranch". A oasis of minivans await us, all proudly lined up the length of one side of the auto lot. They seem to sparkle and wink at us in the icy air. (Or maybe I'm just feeling the consequence of banging my head on the steering wheel.) Mom runs inside to inquire about a couple vans. They simply toss her the keys and answer her questions with a genuine smile and zero hassle. Mr.Bloomington guy, this is how you sell cars.

We alternate sitting in the van with the heat blasting while the other takes various minivans for test drives. We decide to release the children from their car seat confines and they proceed to crawl all over the inside of the van. You know when you pick up a board or piece of wood outside in the summer and find all those bugs scurrying around beneath it? That's sort of what being in the van with the freed kiddos reminded me of. My mom and I were leaning toward two vans. We go back to the "bunk house" as we came to call it, to ask about a good place to eat while we talk it over. Mom searches frantically for the keys to the last van we took for a test drive. They're gone. The sales people stare at us as we tear through our pockets and purses. My mom says, "I guess I have to buy that one now?"

After finding the key in my van, embarrassingly right on the dashboard, we head to a Mexican restaurant the Bob's Auto Ranchers suggested to us. Holy burritos, that placed rocked! Nice little place in a Circle Pines strip mall. Monterrey's Mexican Restaurant on S Highway Dr. Incredible, authentic Mexican food, great low prices, fast service, and friendly waiters...that are nice on the eyes, might I add! I glance at my cell phone and see that it is almost time to pick-up one of my sons from school. I freak out. I call my Canada_Jr and ask if he can please somehow pick up the kiddo. I explain we're in the middle of waiting for our order and in the middle of deciding on a van, and probably couldn't find our way back to County Road J anyway. He grumbles. I grumble back. Canada_Jr grumpily agrees to get son from school. I sigh with relief and dive into my amazing platter of Mexican vegetarian delight.

We head back to "The Ranch", patting our stomachs, adjusting our waistbands, and grinning with post-delicious-meal-delight. I pick rice kernals and smashed beans out of my youngest's hair. We park in front of the two vans my mom had it narrowed down to and stare at them. Waiting for one of them to say, "pick me!". But neither of the vans speak, so we decide the next best thing is to pull the VIN numbers on them both. Both vans have good reports, both pass all our checklists, and both drive like a dream. Mom decides on the one we felt the best about and we go back to "The Bunkhouse". As my mom completes the sale, my children decide to go into destructo mode. One keeps trying to run into parts of the office that he shouldn't. The other keeps pushing the button on the drinking water, causing water to dribble all over the place. I try to chase one while stretching my arm to grab the other in elaborate acrobatics. I cringe inside, realizing I've become one of "those parents" and await the wrath of a crabby employee. But "the ranchers" take it all in stride and laugh. They help me clean up the water mess and smile. When was the last time you had service like that? By the time we left, we were laughing and joking like good friends. I'm telling ya, if you need a new used car and are in Minnesota, check out Bob's Auto Ranch. No hassle, genuine smiles, upfront prices, and real first class serive. They'll take great care of you. Even if they don't wear cowboy chaps with fringe. (But you can bring your own to wear if you are so inclined.)

The sun is going down as I load my children back into my van and my mom climbs into her new wheels. We toss our hats, click our spurs, and ride off into the sunset.

Well sort of.

But it sure made all the acrobatics, wrong turns, head banging, and Caribou Coffee mishaps worth it to see my mom ride off in her new minivan with a smile. Besides, who thought car shopping was so much fun?

A Day with Salihah's Mom - Part 1

2007-02-04T19:17:00.001-06:00

My mom's Ford Taurus was totaled toward the end of 2006. After receiving a check from her insurance company, we hit the road to find her a new set of wheels. My mother never wanted to own a minivan. But since she is the ever-adored Oma of her grandkiddos, she figured she might as well break down and get a minivan so she could fit all the piles of car seats, strollers, and kid cargo in her vehicle. We leave with some car-buying advice from my grandfather, "Don't buy one just because you like the color." We'll try to remember that.

First we drive almost out to Wisconsin to a car dealership in the corn fields that has a lot of minivans that fit what she's looking for. No luck. No sales people seem to be around or willing to help. Next stop, Bloomington...after a few wrong turns by me. (Now I know why my friends call me "The Navitard" for my navigation skills.) Surrounded by Mercedes and BMWs, we wonder if perhaps we (aka 'poor folk') are in the right car lot. Sure enough we are and a guy proceeds to explain that the van we came to see isn't his usual inventory (obviously), but he did a customer a favor by taking it as a trade in. He is nice enough to drive it into the garage for us to look over since it is ice cold outside. I ask to see under the hood. "What for?" the salesman asks. I wanted to say, "I want to see if it has a cute engine or not" But I just rolled my eyes. At this point I'm beginning to get skeptical.

My mom takes it for a test drive and meanwhile I wait with the children in the waiting room. The salesmen tries to put cartoons on for the kids, but can't figure out how to turn on his own TV and begins to cuss. I flip through luxury car magazines on the coffee table, gazing at the strange cars that cost more than my life, alternated with an amazing amount of wrist watch ads. My son sees a pink watch studded with diamonds on an ad and asks me to buy it for him.

Tell me something...what is with those stupid wing doors on some of those cars? You can't close those babies with a shift of your hips while holding a bunch of groceries. I guess someone like me wasn't apart of their design focus group. Too bad for them.

Mom comes back from the test drive and tells the guy it seems to run well, but doesn't heat up and there is a large dent of damage and a bit of rusting on the back side of the van's body. "Well, for this amount, what do you expect?" He basically says in so many words. Um, a better car, I think to myself. My mom says she needs to think on it and we head out the door. He tells us that we won't find anything as nice for the same price. Sure dude, sure. You've highly underestimated the thriftivity of my family.

We get in the car and decide to drive past the minivan one more time. Mom gets out of the van to see how bad the damage actually is. Mom slips on the icy parking lot. I nearly jump out the door of the driver side, but then realize I better put the thing in park. Good thing, because when I got around to the passenger side, my mom was laying half way behind the front wheel. Not only did she fall, but she fell on the wrist and hand that she had just had surgery on. I help her up and she painfully climbs back into our van. She says she's sure now, the signs couldn't be any clearer, that van isn't for her! We laugh and head to Applebees, our favorite restaurant for when we're feeling a bit discouraged...or any other excuse we can think of.

After gorging ourselves, and watching my youngest son smear mac and cheese all over himself, we hit the road again. We make a loop around the block and both shriek with star-struck abandon when we come to see Al's Vacuum on our left! Only FM107 listeners would understand the excitement of seeing the one and only Al's Vacuum, the mecca of everything vacuumy!

As usually happens when I am with my mom for any given time, we start to laugh a lot. On this particular day, this resulted in a sudden pursuit for a restroom, ASAP. I bump the curb as I fly into a parking spot at a busy Caribou Coffee. As I rush out of the van, I hear my mom yelling "kegel, Salihah, kegel!" after me as I run in the door. I nearly fly over the lap of a man in a wheelchair in my haste, and trip over a magazine rack. Everyone stares at the goofy Muslim lady running to the bathroom. Apparently none of them have a post-childbirth bladder like me, or they'd understand the urgency of my situation. I can feel my mom laughing at me, watching through the windows from the van. I don't care, I just want the dang potty. I burst through the restroom door and clamor it shut with a shove and thud.

Afterwards, I straighten up and walk out of the restroom with valiant, casual poise. My head held high. Maybe no one will recognize me as the crazed lady and think I was someone else. No, they're still staring.

I Have a Little Shadow...

2007-02-01T20:05:00.002-06:00

Last summer, we were at my dad's house and the boys were playing in the yard, riding bikes, and playing in "The Dirt Pile", as we call it. My dad had a dump truck full of dirt dumped in the corner of his property, just for the kiddos to play in. They slide down it, play trucks in it, roll down it...Who would have thought this would be so much fun for hours on end? Apparently my dad. I asked him what on earth gave him that idea. He said he had wanted to get them one of those Rainbow swings playsets, but got sticker shock at the price. So he figured a pile of dirt was the next best thing. Go figure. But one day, one of my sons came up with an even more budget-friendly idea…

That day at grandpa’s, I couldn’t find him anywhere. I went around the house, behind the garage, followed the property along the tree line to the woods, looked down the road, I couldn't find him. I was walking back up to the house and found him by a tree spinning in circles, lost in his own 3 year old world. Who needs swingsets or dirt piles, he was spending the day playing with his shadow.

It instantly reminded me of a poem I had memorized in elementary school and had long ago forgotten. Isn't it strange how a sight or sound can trigger an instant clear memory of something you long forgotten?

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—
Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up taller like an India-rubber ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.

He hasn’t got a notion of how children ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to mommy as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed!

Robert Louis Stevenson, 1850–1894

Ok, cheezy, I know, but it was just one of those memories!

Vehicle Test Drive Checklist

2007-01-28T12:11:00.001-06:00

Looking to by a new or used vehicle? This checklist was compiled with the help of my dad.

UNDER THE HOOD...
Belts: Are they old, ugly, cracked? Or new and firm?

Hoses: Are they hard and cracked? Or soft and pliable?

Check the Oil: Is it black and cruddy? Is it full? (If not, obviously changing the oil wasn't a concern to the owner...other maintenance was likely overlooked as well.)

Transmission fluid: Is it dark and burned smelling? Or pinkish and clean?

Oil filter: Is it dirty and rusty? Or new and clean?

Engine: Is it caked in dirt, oil, and crud? Or clean?

OTHER POINTS...

Tires: Uneven wear? Old and worn? (This doesn't disqualify the purchase, it just means you may need to consider the added cost of new tires.)

CV Joints: Greasy, caked, and dirty?

Shocks: Push your knee down on the front and back bumpers…does the car bounce back easy and fast? Bounce slow and resistant? If it bounced back fast and very easily, the shocks are junk.

Shake the wheel: Have a friend watch the tires as you turn the wheel. Or have the seller turn the wheel while you watch...Do the two tires turn responsive or is one hesitating, sticky, delayed?

Frame: Look under the hood at the metal frame, inside the doors, and at the vehicle, directly from the front center and behind...is anything bent? Does the car body seem to angle in one direction rather than straight? DOES THE CAR HAVE A SELVAGE TITLE? Avoid.

TEST DRIVE

Shift points: Automatic transmission...Do you feel the vehicle lurch or "miss" as you accelerate and the transmission reaches the shift points? Is it hard, stiff, or delayed? Manual transmission...Is the stick shift still firm and defined as you shift? Or loose and floppy, hard to find the gears? Grinding or sticking?

Brakes: Hit those brakes as you drive...are they sluggish or unresponsive?

Steering Wheel: Is it loose or delayed?

Acceleration: Delayed or sluggish, stutters?

How does the drive feel? What does your intuition say?

Not all these problems would rule out a purchase. We bought a 1995 minivan for $400... it had a broken brake cylinder and the owner wanted to unload it as the repairs were a few $1000s. My dad fixed it for simply the cost of the part, less than $75. But if you don't know a mechanic, and don't want problems to fix, don't take chances.

CHECK OUT THIS LINK:
Consumer Reports Cars Read reviews on old and new models, recommendations, buying checklists and guides, reliability reports, and more.

CarFax get detailed information on crash, accident, and damage history for a vehicle you're considering. If you're spending a few $1000, this is worth the fee.

Not sure on how to check oil, tranny fluid, or to find a CV Joint? Learn! Ask a worker at a gas station that has a garage, go to your library and get a manual for your vehicle, read your owner's manual, or ask a friend or family member to show you.

Add your comments on other things to check! I'm sure I'm missing a lot!

13 Things that Make Me Crabby

2007-01-28T11:55:00.001-06:00

In no specific order...

1. Losing my glasses, cell phone, or keys

2. PMS

3. Carpet stains

4. Amway rallies

5. Kids that use cuss words, and little girls that wear make-up

6. Sappy love songs

7. Bigots and mean people

8. People that knock things off a shelf or rack in a store and don't pick it up

9. People that scream at their children, are mean to kids or old people

10. Donald Rumsfeld

11. Overdue library books

12. Macs and Apple computers...cross that out, as of late 2008 I'm changing that to PCs

13. Other crabby people

Talks with My Grandpa

2007-01-25T16:02:00.001-06:00

My grandpa said, "Good Morning", to me today when I stopped by for some tea and feshbur. Feshbur is when you throw a bunch of cheeses, breads, and pastries of every sort onto the table and call it a "little snack". There must be a minimum of five types of bread, five cheese, and five sorts of pastries. An unwritten rule, but it is understood that anything less just wouldn't be feshbur.

My grandfather has never once said Good Morning to me. In fact, I don't think I've ever heard him say it to anyone in the family. I feel truly honored.

I showed him my new shoes my mom got for me, and asked what he thought. He looked at them, grunted, and said, "What you trying to do, look like some kind of Gypsy?" Then he followed that with another grunt, a shake of his head, and waved me off with one hand as if to disown my strangeness.

Yup, now that's my Opa.

Although I like these shoes AND Sylvi's Groovin' Jacket ...they don't go very well together, unless I've feeling especially kicky. However, the Shukr jeans can really make the ensemble. It's like Marsha Brady meets bollywood.

Knit 4, Drop 2

2007-01-20T15:37:00.001-06:00

That's what Am said at our knitting class on Friday. Am and Surviving came over to my place to learn to knit. We had seven children, all age 6 and under, running like mad hornets around us. It's a little hard to learn to knit under those conditions. However, I give them both a huge gold star for effort, they both managed to master the "nak" lesson (nursing while knitting) on their first day! As some say, necessity is the best teacher. My mom was the all-star of the day, helping wrangle children and keep babies happy while we clicked our knitting needles.

We used cotton yarn to make dishcloths, well Am sort of fell in love with knitting within in the first 10 minutes and likely has made her dishcloth into a bath towel by now. I did talk about Red Heart worsted yarn, what a good deal it is for trying new pattern ideas and concepts, since it is basically plastic yarn and oh-so cheap. I know there are some MDC Yarn Snob mamas that are totally gagging right now...I was teaching first time knitters and I suggested Red Heart worsted. Yes, the horrors of it all. My mind must not be fully intact. By the way, Yarn Snobs, you should go check out the reviews on that link to Red Heart...yikes! Please lower the rating. lol

So what if two of the kids thought those size 19 broomstick knitting needles were light sabers, one of the babies was taking jumping dives off the top bunk in the boy's bedroom, and that we gorged on lunch before we started our class. Knitting with hands that smell like tabouli and hummus, with a smear of Toblerone chocolate, always adds a nice touch to any project.

Guerilla Wake-Up Tactics

2007-01-15T17:48:00.003-06:00

Guerrilla warfare is not a tactic smiled upon in today's world, and for good reason. But I'll let you in on a secret, it is a dang good tactic for efficient motherhood, a weapon I suggest you keep in your arsenal. Let me illustrate.

Mornings at my house are not pretty. Rousing of small, slothful child bodies falls to my morning drill. I roll out of bed with that foggy-dreamland-gauze over my eyes and shuffle out the room and down the hall to the boy's room. This inevitably involves stepping on a Duplo block or Star Wars toy. That results in not-nice-morning-language from Mom and then a mysterious mishap that ends with action figure Chewbacca losing his head. Don't ask me, I plead the 5th amendment.

I forge ahead to wake up my slumbering children. Moms, you cannot let them smell your fear. You must go in, full speed ahead. Turn on that light, and bellow out your best "Good Morning Sunshines!" (That is your battle cry.) You will notice that they will not respond or even flinch. At best, you might get a low groan, or a head that disappears under a blanket. That's part of their defense training, don't let it phase you or diminish your resolve.

This is where the battlefront is drawn and warfare really begins. The photo at the side shows my most feared weapon. Move over Mr. President and your crusade for WMDs...meet "Good Morning Baby", or GMB. Good Morning Baby is a fearless fighter. I carry him right up to child #1's face as I begin singing an atrociously cheerful morning song while GMB dances and frolics on the slumbering child's pillow. "Goooood Morning tooooo yoooou!! Goood Mooooorning tooooo youuuuu!!!" Make sure your voice cracks, squeaks, and sounds awful for a full-auditory effect. Meanwhile, make GMB flip, jump, and fly around your child's head.

I guarantee you they will surrender. My kids jump out of bed, dress, and race out to breakfast before GMB can even finish the song and dance routine. Mission accomplished.

If you give a kid a camera...

2007-01-13T12:32:00.002-06:00

Strange things will result.

I don't know when or how this all happened. Went to download some pics off my camera and these oddities were hidden in there. No wonder the camera had been found laying on the livingroom floor. Hmmm, I still don't get the pickle jar?

The Mothering Dot Commune

2007-01-13T11:39:00.001-06:00

Are you a granola mom? Did you breastfeed your babies, use cloth diapers, use herbal remedies for your family, or a midwife?

Or maybe you're a mom that doesn't do any of that and you're wondering what makes those sorts of moms tick?

Join me over at the Mothering discussion forums!

*Find moms in your local area, doctor recommendations, local reviews

*Ask questions about that strange thing your baby is doing lately

*Get easy meal ideas

*Share budget saving frugal tips

*Laugh and play some mindless games or polls

*Get a new knitting pattern or sewing idea

*Talk about religion and faith in your life, or lack thereof!

*Join in a political discussion, or avoid political discussion!

*Find friends with like interests, be part of a fun community

*End boring internet surfing!

Quick Knit Elfin Hat

2007-01-12T19:15:00.002-06:00

This pattern and its pdf has moved to my new blog:

http://queenrapunzel.com/2009/12/quick-knit-elfin-hat/

Please visit it there instead as the following information is no longer updated.

I almost always knit in the round, whether it's hats, double-layer scarves, socks, sweaters, or whatever! I also rarely use a needle size over US size 5, or a yarn thicker than DK or worsted...so I did this flat knit hat with a bulky yarn just to change things up a bit! It was fun to make and knitted up really quickly, I made it in an evening while watching a movie.

Supplies: Bulky weight yarn. (I used Patons Shetland Chunky Tweed)
Pair of US Size 10.5 needles
Size H crochet hook (or G or I is fine)
2 stitch markers, yarn needle

Sizes: 6-9mn(12-18mn, 18mn-2yr, 2-4yr)

Gauge: 14 sts per 4"

Cast on 36(40, 44, 48) sts.

Row 1-4: Work in moss stitch.

Row 5: Purl across.

Row 6: Knit across.

Continue in stockinette stitch until work measures 2.5"(3.5",4.5",5.5") from cast-on edge, ending with a knitted row.

Next row: P12(13,14,15) place marker. P12(14,16,18) place marker. P12(13,14,15)

Increase row: K across, m1 on each side of each marker (4 new sts).

Row 2: Purl across.

Repeat these two rows, 4 more times.

Shaping: Cont in stockinette stitch...at the beginning of each row, bind off 6(6,7,7) sts. (Still inc 1 st on ea side of ea marker on every knit row.)

When all sts are bound off, sew back seams to create the two points. Work crochet trim around bottom edge of the hat. You could work a fancy, wide edging, or a just a simple sc or hdc around. Tip: Work 3 sts in each of the back center sts of hat when crocheting the trim so that the trim curves gently around the neck. This makes the bottom edge round and curved rather than triangular in shape.

Attach tassels to points. Attach braids with tassels to ends as ties. Or make crochet or I-cord ties. Just make them short enough not to get tangled. I don't use them to tie as the hat stays on without tying and its safer that way.
You're done!

Use your imagination with this pattern and have fun. Let me know, if you could, how the sizing works for you. I've tested this pattern on a few different ages and the sizing seemed right on, but I'd like some more feedback to be sure.

You’re welcome to make these projects for yourself, to give as gifts, or to sell. You are welcome to share the pattern with others as long as it is kept with this notice. The pattern is not be sold for profit. Please share this website and link with others! Direct link to this pattern: http://findingsalihah.blogspot.com/2007/01/quick-knit-elfin-hat.html

Gone Nerdy! Smiles & Skins!

2007-01-12T17:18:00.001-06:00

So I went a bit onto the techy-nerd side of my personality today. It is the lesser side of me that sometimes needs recognition or I might forget it's there. Here are some new tech things I found today to make my internet experience more glamorous for the days I'm not being a nerd...

Firefox Skins!
Change your browser from boring old plain-jane to something fun or funky!

You have to have Mozilla Firefox. Then just go to the Themes section and pick one you like. Download it. Then on your browser toolbar, go under Tools>Add-ons> then click Themes. Click the theme you downloaded. Then click the "Use Theme" button. Close Firefox. When you reopen it, you'll have your new theme. Lucky you!

Smiley Icons!
Add fun smilies, over 1,000 to choose from, to any of your emails, forum posts, messaging, or whatever!

Gmail Skins!
Take your old white Gmail screen...to new colors! Just two examples (sea and plum)...

To do this, you must have a Gmail account and a Mozilla Firefox browser...both are free.

1. Then just download the Gmail Skins Extension.

2. Create a label in your Gmail Labels, just like you normally would create a new label. Name the new label exactly as: gmskin:sea,1,1,0,0,1,1,1,1,0

3. Modify the color and the screen position and layout by altering the color names and numbers in the special label code. Here is the key to the codes.

Have fun fellow geeks! Nerd on!

real. life. conversation.

2007-01-12T16:32:00.001-06:00

Just FYI... Finding Salihah is on the Balanced Breakfast Morning Show with Ian & Margery on Friday, Jan 12th at 6:50am. And again on Monday, Jan 29th around the same time.

If you haven't checked out FM107, check them out! They have entertaining, inspiring, and fun radio all day. Some call this "talk radio", but I prefer "conversation radio", as it really just like having your good friend along for your car ride or work day. Intelligent conversation, yet it still gives a nice helping of fun, humor, and kick to your day.

Anyone in around the globe can tune in to FM107 online here. There are a variety of shows on throughout the day, and replays throughout the evening hours.

Bone to Pick

2007-01-11T09:57:00.001-06:00

I have a bone to pick with General Mills. They are currently on my #!*@ list. That's a bummer because I love most everyone, even the crabby cashier ladies at Joann Fabrics. But the marketing team at General Mills...I am officially putting you on my list of Sins of My Kitchen. How prestigious for you.

Fine sirs and madames of the jury, can anyone tell me what is wrong with this picture?

Yes, yes, I do believe you are right. That IS a hole in the front of the box! Now, why oh why, tell me, would such a smart and long-standing company such as General Mills put a gigantic HOLE in the front of a Cheerios box? Well, even if you don't want to know, I'll tell you anyway.

Cheerios was doing a free book offer. As a promoter of literacy myself, I thought this was rather keen of them. [Insert applause here for Cheerios] But, just what do you think would happen if you left this box unattended on the kitchen counter with a home full of boys? Yes, you're right. They will grab that unsuspecting poor cereal box, tear open the top with no regard for saving the stay-fresh tab, and plunge their grubby little chub-nubs down in that bag searching for the free toy. Like the dawn of the marketing genius of cereal box toy insertion has not been bad enough for us mothers for the last few generations. [Remove applause for Cheerios here]

No, that wasn't bad enough. Cheerios, sadistically, had to plaster the free book on the inside of the front of the box. They designed a gigantic HOLE in the front of the box so that the free book would be visible to shoppers. Then guess what? When little Johnny (or little Ahmed, as the case may be) rips that book off the box, this is what happens to my kitchen floor:

Just thought you'd want to know.

Love Notes

2007-01-11T08:59:00.001-06:00

There used to be a time when my husband wrote me elaborate love notes. I still have them tucked in the back of my sock drawer. Sweet nothings, romantic musings...he even wrote me songs.

These days my love notes look a bit different:

This greeted me as I left this morning to take one of my sons to school. It reads, "I have a dentist appt @ 11:00 am". For those of you that do not speak Manbonics, what this really means is,

"I have a dentist appointment this morning. I know I told you this already 9 times over the past week, but I know you, and I know you won't remember. I am leaving this note on the door, because I know if I leave it on the table, you'll just gather it up with all my other important papers I leave there for a reason, and toss them in the trash without looking at the note at all. So I need you to be home by 10:30, sans shopping trips, so you can watch the little munchkins. I don't want to cart them along with me to said dentist trip."

Notice the Napoleon Dynamite note paper, and the writing in crayon...very sexy.

Excuse me now, I think I need a cold shower.

Thanks Ian & Margery!

2007-01-10T22:34:00.000-06:00

Ian & Margery posted my blog on their 107 FM radio morning show homepage...I am so flattered! Wow, thanks you guys! See it listed here! (Thanks to Darci & Paul, too!)

If you're in the Twin Cities, tune in to them weekday mornings between 5am-9am on 107.1 FM.

If you're anywhere else in the world, tune in online here at the same time Central Standard Time.

Shukr Online - Bummer!

2007-01-10T18:13:00.001-06:00

I am sooooo bummed out!! Shukr has their new winter collection online and I have no money to shop!

Go enjoy it for yourself, if you want to buy me something, I wouldn't complain.

Click to see the new Women's Collection or the new Men's Collection

Shukr is expensive, but way worth every dollar. Shop when there is a sale or clearance for huge savings, that is what I do. This clothing is superior in stitching, fabrics, and quality to even the classiest department store. Lasts for ages, wears great! I love it!

And the Canadian Muslim has some fun new arrival abayas and skirt sets in...double bummer!!

Check Them Out Here

Real Slice of Culture Awards

2007-01-08T10:41:00.002-06:00

Shopping at my local grocery store is a real slice of culture. There are some true all-stars there, you should stop by sometime if you're ever casting a new movie, or just want some relief from thinking you're the only strange one out there.

I made the mistake of grocery shopping on Dec 31st. That's when everyone else decided to go shopping, just to bother me. My first candidate for a RSC (real slice of culture) award went to an elderly gentleman I'll call Turkey Man. Turkey Man was sitting over by the deli section where they have some booths, tables, and a soda fountain. Turkey Man caught my eye as I cruised by with my cart because his mouth was moving but there was no one within hearing range of him. I rolled over a little closer and noticed he was talking to his lunch meat. Now we all have had "those moments", don't be shy, I know you have. But this man made me a bit nervous. So I asked him how he was doing today, just to sort of feel out his psychiatric factor. You know, if you ask someone how they are doing and they just stare at you, start screaming, or try to poke you with their fork...they have issues with their psychiatric factor and it's best you get some distance. But not this gentleman, he said, "well hello there missy! I'm doin' fine! How 'bout yerself?" We had a nice little chat, he was just a lonely elderly man.

I am a magnet for old people. I don't know why. You know how hobos used to carve symbols into fences to mark which houses were friendly and which weren't? Somehow the Old People have marked me. They come over to chat with me about their podiatrist appointment, to pinch my children's cheeks, or to ask me to help them find the ketchup aisle. This usually ensues into a two hour shopping trip where I meander around the store at their side, nodding my head as I hear tales of their neighbors new lawn mower or how their son got braces for his show dog's teeth. Meanwhile, we find everything on their grocery list and they go on their way. I resume my own shopping only to spend the rest of the day searching for whatever ominous marking they have somewhere left on me to signal the next Old Person that comes along.

Here is another candidate for the RSC award...Cracker Girl. I am a cracker fanatic, not meaning "cracker" as in white people, by the way. Although they're ok, too. But I like my Whole Grain Wheat Thins. I also have to get a box for the cat, as some of you know. So there I am grabbing my crackers off the shelf and tossing them into my already lumbersome cart. Cracker Girl stands there watching me with a few boxes of crackers in her arms. She stares at me some more. Then she puts her crackers back, still staring at me, and takes the same sort of crackers I bought and puts them into her cart...still staring. What the heck? Can anyone explain this one? Cracker Girl, you're strange. Stranger than my 67% Strangeness Rating, I'm sure.

My last RSC award candidate is the young man in Aisle 8 who had the gall to hit on me. I don't know if you're abnormal or just plain male. But anyone who winks and smiles at a woman with a cart full of kiddos and boxes of Cheerios...what are you thinking? I pretended to ignore him. He proceeds to turn around and follow after me. "Hey, do you know where the frozen dinners are? I'm single and never get a real meal." WHAT? This happens all to often. Dude, just because I'm wearing a headscarf does not mean I am your idea of the perfect little housewife. You know those Muslim girls, they make meals, rub feet, belly dance, and make babies. Ya, sure guy, go watch another episode of I Dream of Jeannie. What is it modest Muslim gals that attracts American men so much? Creepy. I think I'm ordering a Burqa off eBay. Or maybe I need to try the other approach and dress like a Baywatch girl. Then I'll be left alone.

Could I mention the wonders of grocery shopping without mentioning all the bad cart drivers? I've heard it said there is a direct correlation between how badly people drive on the road and how they push a cart in a grocery store.

So there you have it, my grocery store wonders. Leave a comment with your RSC candidates, I'm eager to hear what oddities inhabit your neighborhood.

Where's My Purse?!

2007-01-08T10:00:00.001-06:00

Ladies, do you leave your purse in your cart while you shop or do you carry it on your shoulder? I leave mine in front child seat of the cart. As I park my cart to the side and leave it to forge the crowded snack aisle less encumbered, I leave my purse unattended in my cart. I do this all the time. I've been told that I am asking to get something stolen. Now I trust the goodness of humanity, and you know what? No one has ever touched my purse. There was the one time I forgot it at Taco Bell. I had already got on the freeway when I noticed my purse wasn't with me. You know that frantic OH-MY-GOLLY-HECK sort of feeling you get when you realize you don't have your purse? That happened to me, except I cussed for real. I got off on the next exit, headed back to Taco Bell, the whole time just knowing my purse would be gone and my husband was going to get a kick out of saying "I told ya so!". I ran into the Taco Bell like a crazed lunatic dashing to my former table desperately looking for my forgotten purse. You know what? It wasn't there, it was gone. Then I hear someone say with a smile in their voice, "are you looking for this?". My purse was with a group of policemen having lunch the next table over. What nice guys. I gushed my profuse thanks and thanked God my blood pressure was coming back off the tip of See? No harm done. My method is fool-proof. Now where is my wallet?

Good to Be a Mom

2007-01-02T23:12:00.001-06:00

My children think I know everything. That I 'know all, and see all'. Of course this is far from true. But I have to admit, I enjoy it. I knew one of my kiddos had a glass of chocolate milk. Three year olds pouring their own glass of milk is usually a recipe for disaster, so I prefer if they ask for help. But he didn't. He is still in awe, wondering how I could have known.

"How you know, Mama??" He asks in 3-year-old awe, his eyes wide and mouth covered in chocolate milk residue. That's one of the many things so neat about kids. He'd never guess it was the chocolate milk mustache left around his lips. He just thinks I know everything.

I enjoy this omniscient power of presence, even when I'm not in the room. "We better not do THAT...Mom will know it was us for sure!" Sometimes it's good to be a mom.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith

2007-01-02T23:01:00.001-06:00

Have you seen the movie 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith'? I could "feel the love" through the whole movie. Yup, that movie is my dad and stepmom all the way. Not that they are hitmen, but that they'd love to kill each other. Ah yes, how romantic.

Except my dad sure doesn't look like Brad Pitt, and my stepmom isn't really an Angelina Jolie either. But don't tell them I said that.

Make the Most of Gmail!

2007-01-02T11:19:00.001-06:00

Are you a Gmail user or considering it? It took me awhile to get used to Gmail. I hated it at first. For some reason, I kept using it. Now I LOVE it, plus you can integrate it to a POP3 client, too.

Here are some tips I've compiled to make the most of using your Gmail account. This is from my own trial and error.

Salihah's Gmail Tips:

**Contacts. Anytime you email someone (and I think when someone emails you), their address is automatically saved to your contacts. This is nice because if you forget to add email addresses to your contacts and then one day you want to email someone and think you don't have their email...well there it is! The drawback is sometimes you have to click the blue bold "Contacts" link at the left, click "All Contacts", and then weed them out. You can also edit contacts by hovering your mouse over the name, then clicking "edit contact information". You can even add a picture for each of your contacts. Now be nice! lol

**Correspondence. Want to find all your correspondence with someone? Just go to the blue bold "Contacts" link at the left, click their name, and all of your emails to or from them will appear at the bottom of the screen. Nice!

**Labels. Those are your folders. I made one for "Keep for Reference" and "Need to Do Something"...that way I can easily file away any emails that I want to keep readily accessible for reference (i.e. forum registrations, online shopping receipts, etc), and also emails that I need to do something...like look up a phone number for someone, find a link, or whatever.

**Archive. This is sort of the black hole. That is like deleting something, except it is not deleted, it will stay in your archive file indefinitely. Handy, but that's why I use labels for things I want to find quickly (see above). You can also search for specific emails with the search field at the top of the page. Works great! You can also permanently delete emails. Occasionally, I go through my Archive and delete things I know I will never need or want again...like that stupid email joke from a relative. lol

**Spam folder. Gmail is the best at weeding out spam in my opinion! If you're ever expecting an email that you never receive, check the Spam folder. I have never had a legit email go in there, but I guess it could happen. For that reason, check the Spam folder from time to time and empty it out. Otherwise you'll have 700 some messages in there and it might be scary to go in there.

**Drafts. Typing an email and want to finish it later? Save to your drafts. Also, your emails will automatically be saved to your drafts folder as you type. So if your power goes out or your 2 year old hits the off button, your email should be sitting safely in your drafts folder. However, it doesn't fill up, because once you send a message, the draft disappears from the draft folder. Easy.

**All Mail. Click the blue All Mail link at the left to view every message you've ever sent or received, whether Archived, Labeled, or whatever! (Minus anything you've permanently deleted.)

**Skins. You can change the look of your Gmail screen by downloading Gmail skins! More Info Here. This is not endorsed by Gmail. But I use it and it's a fun change.

**Settings. That is at the very top right of the screen. That's where you change your outgoing name, enable POP3 if you want to, make a signature, set automatic vacation notification, and even set it up to receive your other email accounts in your Gmail account.

**Help. Blue text link at the very top right of the screen. Questions, answers, etc.

**Other Google Services. Click the "all my services" blue text link on the very top left menu and you'll go to your main Google page with links to your Blogger account, and whatever other Google services you might use. That is also where you can change your password.

**Modifying text. Click the blue "Compose Mail" text link. As you compose your message, you can add bold, italic, or underline, change fonts, font size, color, add hyperlinks, and all that. All so you can add BCC, CC email addresses, attach files, edit your subject (when replying to an email), switch to plain text, and check your spelling.

**Conversations. This might be confusing when first using Gmail. It was for me. Say you just received an email from your friend Oddball. It is still sitting in your inbox, you haven't done anything with it other than read it. If Oddball send you another email, that email is going to appear with the first message in your inbox. So if Oddball emails you 99 times, all 99 of those emails will go under the first. As well as your responses, in nice organized, back and worth fashion. Gmail calls that a "conversation" and it makes it really nice and easy to read through what you've been emailed and what you've emailed back to someone in order. Sometimes a new message might be there, though, so if you are keeping your conversations in your inbox, check them frequently. Otherwise, Archive away any messages. Then when you're contacted again, it will just appear as a brand new message. Confusing? Just make yourself use Gmail for awhile before you judge it. It makes sense and gets really easy and logical the more you use it.

**Chat. You can chat with any other Gmail users using an instant message feature. Just hover over their name in the left "Quick Contacts" panel...you'll be given an option to invite them to chat, send them an email, view recent conversations, and all that good stuff.

Anything else? There is plenty more! Leave your favorite tip as a comment. Or ask a question. Bookmark this post for future reference or send it to your new or confused Gmail user friends.

What a Gmail account? Email me with your current email address and I'll send you an invite:
What an image like that for your blog or elsewhere? Visit these nice folks.

Want more tips? Visit Jim Barr's Collection.

Sacreligious Nativity Set

2006-12-31T14:49:00.001-06:00

Over the holiday season, I came across this nativity set at someone's house. The nativity is a beautiful thing, as is the birth of Jesus (pbuh). But this particular nativity set made our unfortunate pop-culture minds think of some other characters. If the nativity were made into a Monty Python style comedy (think of the 'Life of Brian', for example) on likeness of features alone, this is who we'd cast...

Don't they look oddly similar? See for yourself:

George Clinton , Owen Wilson

Jerry Garcia , Kathy Bates

Sir Ian McKellen , Johnny Depp

David Crosby , Bobby Brown ,Wee-Man

Excuse me now, I have to go dodge lightning bolts for the rest of the day.

Why Knit Lil' Mittens

2006-12-31T13:16:00.001-06:00

I call these "Why Knit Lil' Mittens" because I have yet to find a reason to knit them. They are without function. But then that has never stopped a knitter before, has it? So here you go...put them on your Christmas tree, Hanukkah bush, or Eid shrub, tie them to a the bow on your gift wrap, hang them on your door knob, in your cubicle at work, or in your car. If you find a good use for them, let us know! Make them striped, multi-colored, or with designs, make them your own.

PDF Print-Friendly Version:Click Here

What you need:
Sportweight Yarn, 1 or 2 colors, or more!
Pair US Size 2 Needles (these are so small, I just used 2 DP needles)
Yarn Needle

Gauge:
Are you kidding? We're not wearing these.

Cast on 20 sts with main color. Work ribbing for 4 rows (either k2, p2, or k1, p1). Do rows 2 and 4 in contrast color, if desired.

Row 1: p across.
Row 2: k9, k1, m1, k1, m1, k to end.
Row 3. p across (also purl rows 5 and 7).
Row 4: k10, k1, m1, k1, m1, k to end.
Row 6: k11, k1, m1, k1, m1, k to end.
Row 8: k12, k1, m1, k1, m1, k2, TURN and BO 8 sts in purl. P rem sts.
Row 9: k across. (When you get to the BO sts, just skip right across to the next st, pulling the gap closed.)
Row 10: p across
Row 11: k across
Row 12: p across
Row 13: k across
Row 14: p across
Row 15: k2tog, k7, k2tog, k7, k2tog
Row 16: p across
Row 17: k2tog, k across to the 2 sts above thumb and k them tog. k to last 2 sts, k2tog.
Row 18: p across.
Row 19: k2tog across.

Break yarn, leaving enough to sew seam. Thread yarn through yarn needle and thread through rem sts. Draw tightly closed. Sew side seam and thumb closed.

Embroider a design on mitten in contrast color, if desired.

Make a second mitten, if desired. Tie both together with braided yarn or a crocheted chain.

You're done!

You’re welcome to make this projects for yourself, to give as gifts, or to sell. Want to share the pattern? Share this link pattern: http://findingsalihah.blogspot.com/2006/12/why-knit-lil-mittens.html

Eid Mubarek Everybody!

2006-12-31T11:15:00.001-06:00

"Eid Mubarek everybody, Eid Mubarek everybody" ok, that's from a song on a Teletubbies episode and it's been stuck in my head ever since...can you tell I'm around kiddos all day and night?

It's Eid ul-Adha!

So, while many had been scrambling to finish Christmas and Hanukkah gifts in time, the 1 billion Muslims of the world were thankful to have a few more days to do last minute shopping! Plus, we got to shop all the after-Christmas sales...thank you Christmas-centered retail society!!

Is that what Eid is about? Gosh no. It's about food, family, friends, and all that good stuff. But mostly...Check this out Eid - A Shared Celebration!

If you are still scratching your head saying, "what the heck is Eid?" Here you go:
Wikipedia on Eid

Not to be confused with Eid ul-Fitr.

Confused? That's ok. Happy Eid to you anyway!

The Darwinian Teapot

2006-12-29T09:37:00.002-06:00

The teapot is the unsong hero in my family. No fancy awards, no golden pedastal, no paid vacation days. Just a trusty chunk of metal always sitting on the back of the stove. Or does a tea pot always need a fire or stove? I'm not so sure anymore.

I acquired this little piece of plastic and screws from my mother-in-law. The Rival Hot Pot. It requires no stove to heat the water. I am not sure if this is an act of jinn, or simply due to the teapot having an electrical cord to plug into the wall.

I might just be in love with this little wonder of teapot evolution. My ancestors heated their tea over a fire pit. I have a plastic pot that plugs into the wall. And yet we both wonder just how the jinn might be involved with our tea water going from cold to hot.

Sometime ago, my grandma asked me what I wanted from her when she is gone, to remember her by. (This isn't a fatalistic attitude, it's just my grandma.) I thought a bit, and then said her tea pot. She has had the same tea pot my whole life. It is gigantic, heats enough hot water for an army, and came to America with them tucked securely in their wooden trunk. She said my grandfather and her received it as a wedding gift. They've used it ever since. It's been there to heat water when family members were sick, for funerals, celebrations, births...and even the time my cousin took a drink from her tea cup, started laughing at someone's joke, and sprayed tea all over the table. Very glamourous moments in family history. It was there when my grandpa solemnly told me at age 4 over breakfast that if I misbehaved again, gypsies would come and kidnap me. Or when he told me at age 11 that if I told neighbors about God, the government would come steal me in the night and I'd wake up in a cold prison with my finger nails being removed with pliers. Oh yes, sweet childhood memories of having an immigrant family. You'd have to know my grandpa to understand that he would tell me such terrible things only because he loves me so very much.

So, one day my grandma presents me with a box. "What is it?" I ask. "Your tea pot", she replies. I felt so special, so solemn, as I opened the box that held the cherished tea pot of our family. Inside, sat a brand new gleaming shiney kettle with teflon interior and modern sheek design. "Yikes," I thought. I thanked her and asked, though, why not the real tea pot I always wanted. She casually replies, "oh that old thing? You don't want that. I finally threw it away." She continues proudly, "This tea pot is much better! Perfect for a young family!" Nooooooo! Oh, the horrors! I'm still grieving the loss.

So perhaps Darwin was right on a few things, teapot evolution for one. Whether it be jinn or not, I sure enjoy having my Rival Hot Pot. I'll take it any day over open fire pit or gyspy kidnappings.

Knit Dish Towel Topper

2006-12-28T00:35:00.005-06:00

This pattern, and the pdf, is now available on Ravelry:
http://www.ravelry.com/patterns/library/knit-dish-towel-topper-kitchen-set

Easy Crochet Dishcloths

2006-12-27T23:58:00.002-06:00

Have more leftover yarn and tired of the potholders pattern? Try these easy dishcloths. They are a favorite request of family and friends, also a good way to use up that leftover yarn. Do not worry about gauge with this, we aren't making socks or sweaters for once so now is your chance to forget about gauge without that guilty feeling! Vary the yarn or needle/hook size as you want. Just grab your crochet hook and have fun with a simple, mindless project!

This first one doesn't look so great in the pic, don't let that scare you off. It's a fun one to make. I was watching Meet the Parents while making it, so I kept missing my sts. lol I'll make a better one to post a new pic next time around when I won't be watching a movie that makes me laugh so much.

Ocean Waves Dishcloth
I used Peaches & Creme cotton yarn in 2 colors, worsted weight, H hook (5.0mm)

Main Color: Ch 34 loosely, turn. (For just Row 1, make 1st st in 4 ch from hook...)

Row 1: *1tr, 2dc, 2hdc, 3sc, 2hdc, 2dc, 2tr* rep from * to end. Ch 1, turn.
Row 2: sc to end. Change color in last st, ch 1, turn.
Row 3: *1sc, 2hdc, 2dc, 3tr, 2dc, 2hdc, 2sc* rep from * to end. Ch 1, turn.
Row 4: sc to end. Change color in last st, ch4, turn.

Continue rows 1-4 until desired size. Work a border around the edge, if desired, in your choice of st. I just did sc around, working 3 sc in ea corner for an even turn around the edges.

Mindless Dishcloth
1 ball cotton worsted yarn, size H hook (5.0 mm)
Ch 34
Work hdc in each st. Ch 2, turn.

Rep until desired size. Work sc around edge, working 3 sc in ea corner.

Really, that's it. That's why it's called the "Mindless Dishcloth", you can almost do it with your eyes closed! Whip out a few while watching a movie. Fast, easy, use up some leftover yarn, and you're done! And friends and family will want more, so make a bunch.

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

2006-12-27T14:30:00.001-06:00

bismi-llāhi ar-raḥmāni ar-raḥīmi
"In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most Merciful"

I know my blog is more laughs and smiles. But rain comes on all of us no matter who we are or where on this earth we sojourn. I know that maybe not today, but insha'Allah, tomorrow I will smile again.

To My Baby...My fifth child, with love...

Is it proper to cry for a baby too small for a coffin? Yes, I think it is.

Does God have a purpose of love and care for you, my tiny baby? Yes, I know so.

There is so much I don't know about you, my child...he? she? quiet? restless? Will I recognize someone I knew so little, yet loved so much? Yes, I think I will.

Can we say that your life was worth nothing because your stay so short? No, I think not.

Ah, sweet small child, can I say that loving you is like loving God...loving, yet not seeing, not holding, not touching or caressing, separated by the chasm of time? No tombstone marks your sojourn, only God and His angels recorded your name.

Yet I love you for always, my baby you will always be.

---

I know what you do not know. 2:30

---

I have posted a poem to my baby at another forum for mothers of pregnancy loss. I didn't post it here because it is more for women only.

Mothering.com It is post #29 in that thread.

I Hate Cat Blogs

2006-12-25T20:27:00.001-06:00

I really do hate cat blogs. You know what I'm talking about. Those blogs where everything is about what the blogger's cat did this afternoon? You know what? I don't care what your cat did. Cat's are cats. Not humans...regardless of how many times you swear your cat has spoken to you. Do not blog about it, get help. Please, for everyone's sake.

Not that I am one to speak on appropriate blog content. Afterall, I've blogged about Dora the Explorer doll & the spider in my dishwasher, and breakfast pastries & my Amway relative. Those things can be more indictive of mental stability than cat-blogging. However, I'm 67% strange and I've never claimed to be sane.

Honestly, I need professional veterinary advice. So any veterinarians out there, please speak up. My cat scares me to say the least. I think instead of neutering him, they might have accidentally given him a lobotomy. Stuff like that happens in the medical world, I've seen enough made-for-TV movies to know what I'm talking about. Not sure how one could confuse cat testes with a brain, but stranger things have happened.

As much as my children begged for a cat, I said no. I maintained that it would be unkind to bring an animal into this circus of a home. But one day we were at the animal humane society and visiting the "cat rooms". When my brood and I would enter a "cat room", all the felines would either hiss at us or run to a distant corner with their fur up and tail between their legs. This further confirmed my determination that a cat was not right for our family...more so that our family was not right for a cat. But then something odd happened. We went into the last room and all the cats, as usual, ran. All except for one. He actually ran to my children. Even when they shrieked and petted his fur the wrong direction, he didn't run. Soon he was climbing up their legs and purring in their ears. That damn cat came home with us. His name is Super Freak because that is what he is. At night he runs laps at sonic speed around our living room, claws ripping into the carpet in furniture, his ears pinned back, eyes crazed.

Super Freak eats Wheat Thins. Some of you have witnessed this. He sneaks into the cupboard and gnaws open the box. He prefers the Whole Grain flavor, but will accept the Original blend. However, he hates Parmesan Basil. He also drools when he purrs - we call this 'purr juice', he sleeps with his eyes half open, and drinks water out of the fish tank while the fish nip at his tongue. At night he slips in our room, lays across my face, and kneads his claws in and out of my scalp as he drips purr juice into my ear. Sigh. What is wrong with this animal? Anyone?

Perhaps Super Freak is also I'm 67% Strange. Maybe that is why I tolerate him, or perhaps why he tolerates me.

I swear, I will never cat-blog again. I once saw a blog that was all written from the perspective of the blogger's cat. If I get like that, please smack me.

P.S. Can you believe that Wikipedia had an entry for Wheat Thins? God help us.

New Posts

2006-12-24T22:08:00.001-06:00

I posted a couple new vintage images at my other blog http://thedomesticwife.blogspot.com Stop by and leave a hello!

Mornings with Ian and Margery

2006-12-21T10:25:00.001-06:00

It struck me the other day, once again, that I am a grown up. You think this would have been plastered into my consciousness by now, at least after I married and had children. But having kiddos doesn't always automatically make one feel "grown up". Children are fun, joy, smiles, and seeing the world in a new way every moment. Among other things, being a parent allows you to play on the jungle gym at the playground or order a Happy Meal without your peers whispering to each other when you walk by.

So, I guess my first full run-in with adulthood came when I fell into the Land of Domestic Bliss. For the gory details, read my account of this most tragic occurrence here:

How I Discovered Domestic Bliss

But this morning, things hit home yet again. I found myself singing "Happy Boy" to myself as I was loading the dishwasher. My first horrific thought was, "I HAVE BECOME MY MOTHER!" My mom has listened to FM107 for awhile. In my valley-girl ignorance, I just knew this made my mother lame. Morning shows about real-life stuff? No immature celebrity gossip, no trashy stories? Come on, boring...or so I thought.

Then this morning, I realized that I have been listening to the FM107 morning show every weekday morning as I drive one of my children to school. Yes, I have become my mother. Sigh. Sometimes the truth just hurts. Ian and Margery Punnett, are an everyday married couple with two kids. Ian broadcasts from the station, Margery from home. They talk about "real life conversation"...kids, marriage, pantyhose, Keith Ellison, Kenny Rogers look-a-likes, and drunk women at Christmas parties. Does it get anymore real than that? Throw in a good dose of upbeat humor, inspiration, real life callers, and of course the "Happy Boy" song. Twin Citians, tune in some morning on your way to work or school, sing along to "Happy Boy", and give your day a smile. Or anyone online can tune in to the show online here.

And you know what? With Ian and Margery, I realized yes, indeed, being a grown up is a lot of fun. Even if it means I've become my mother.

Sins of My Kitchen

2006-12-20T22:07:00.003-06:00

The jury is in and I have gathered all evidence. I will proceed in stating my case. The following is my new list of rules for my kitchen and those that inhabit my kitchen when foraging for food.

Exhibit #1:
Guilty as charged.
Thou shalt not rinse out thy dish of salsa above other dishes in the sink. This is yucky. I don't like to look into my sink in the morning and see floating tomato chunks and miscellaneous debris. It makes me want to run away and find a new home.

Exhibit #2:
Guilty as charged.
Thou shalt not eat mama's leftover Tandori Chicken from Holy Land Deli Tandori Chicken from Holy Land Deli. It is rare that I am able to get the privilege of take-out food. I put the leftovers in the fridge, naively expecting them to be there the next day. When I have been craving my leftover Holy Land Tandori Chicken, pull the box out of the fridge, and then open it to find all that remains is a plastic fork, two shish kabob sticks, and assorted kernals of rice, I get very crabby. As the saying goes, "When mama aint' happy, ain't nobody happy". You better believe it.

Exhibit #3:
Guilty as charged.
Thou shalt not lose the cap to my soymilk container. When the soymilk is put back in the fridge without the cap, it aquires strange and unusual smells and flavors. Believe it or not, I do not like soymilk that tastes like leftover Holy Land Tandoori Chicken or that wilted head of lettuce that has yet to be evicted from its home in my fridge.

Exhibit #4:
Guilty as charged.
Thou shalt not go to thy grocery store and purchaseth more peanut butter when thy cupboard still containth peanut butter. Check thy cupboard before making thy shopping list. Also, thou shalt not openeth a new jar when three jars are already opened.

Exhibit #5:
Guilty as charged.
Thou shalt not make chocolate milk by thyself if thou is going to make a splattery mess and not cleaneth it up.

Do Not Eat This

2006-12-20T21:59:00.001-06:00

This is a Maruchan Instant Lunch noodle cup. I wanted to add that this also works as an Instant Breakfast or Instant Dinner, too. (Yes, My Strange Family thinks that soup can be a breakfast food. But no, they still don't think cold cereal is a good idea for breakfast.)

I hadn't been feeling that well the last few days. That means I don't cook. My husband would argue that I don't cook anyway. But he's making that up. Anyway, aside from making PB&J sandwiches for the kiddos, I've been surviving off these noodle cups.

First you peel back the top foil lid. Inside you find a rock hard mass of noodles sprinkled with dehydrated corn kernals and carrot shavings. Don't you wonder how much styrofoam Hmm. You'd think you'd stop there. But no, I pour in my hot water, recover it with the foil lid, and then sit and stare at it as it magically turns to "soup". A minute or so later, you peel the lid back open and eat. Voila...soup!

Yikes.

The Starfish Story

2006-12-18T09:37:00.001-06:00

Based on a story by Loren Eisley...

I awoke early, as I often did, just before sunrise to walk by the ocean's edge and greet the new day. As I moved through the misty dawn, I focused on a faint, far away motion. I saw a man, bending and reaching and flailing arms, dancing on the beach, no doubt in celebration of the perfect day soon to begin.

As I approached, I sadly realized that the man was not dancing to the bay, but rather bending to sift through the debris left by the night's tide, stopping now and then to pick up a starfish and then standing, to heave it back into the sea. I asked the man the purpose of the effort. "The tide has washed the starfish onto the beach and they cannot return to the sea by themselves," he replied. "When the sun rises, they will die, unless I throw them back to the sea."

As the man explained, I surveyed the vast expanse of beach, stretching in both directions beyond my sight. Starfish littered the shore in numbers beyond calculation. The hopelessness of the man’s plan became clear to me and I countered, "But there are more starfish on this beach than you can ever save before the sun is up. Surely you cannot expect to make a difference."
The man paused briefly to consider my words, bent to pick up a starfish and threw it as far as possible. Turning to me he simply said, "I made a difference to that one."

I left the man and went home, deep in thought of what he had said. I returned to the beach and spent the rest of the day helping the man throw starfish in to the sea.

-A special thank you to Dr. Allan Valgemae for making a difference to this one.

I've Been Tagged

2006-12-16T20:08:00.001-06:00

Surviving tagged me! Ok, so here I go....

The Code: State six weird things about yourself. Then tag 6 people and
leave them a comment to let them know that they’ve been tagged.

1. I don't like odd numbers...to an obsessive extent. The other day I accidently dropped an M&M when I was walking across the parking lot, so I had to drop another so there was an even number.

2. I collect autographs and quotations of everyday, ordinary people. I have since I was a kid. I don't know why. I just started and never stopped.

3. When I was a little kid, I had a dog named "Cheezer". No one knows why I named him that. I don't know either.

4. I became a black belt at age 15 and won a national championship in Boston, MA. I threw-up in the locker room before my competition.

5. I'm Epileptic.

6. I clean my kitchen sink with Windex.

Bloggers I just tagged-so you can go read the 6 weird things about them!
Sage in Cave
Hyacinths and Biscuits
Paved Paradise
Carol for Peace
Naturally Disastrous
Joyfully Hannah
Rockin' Hejabi

Oops, that's seven. Oh well, I guess another weird thing is that I can't count? lol If you've been tagged, you have to post 5 weird things about yourself on your blog (unless you'd really rather not) and the tag 6 other people by leaving them a comment to let them know they've been tagged. You don't have to post the tagged people on your blog. Have fun!

The Domestic Wife

2006-12-16T16:46:00.001-06:00

As some of you know, since I was a teenager, I've collected vintage drawings and photos of women from the 1950's. Something about this American "perfect housewife" ideal has always been both interesting and humorous to me. She is usually depicted as self-assured, yet submissive. Witty, yet coy. Always neat, tidy, and in a crisp starched dress, she dotes on her husband and children. Her home is her domain and it is always immaculate. She never frowns or says a cross word, especially to her man. He's the king of the castle, and its her job to make him feel that way every moment.

Now, I have yet to meet this lady. But I see her depicted a lot in images and advertisements of the 1950's era. Maybe I hate this ideal, maybe I want to be it. Whatever the reason, I eventually started a collection of images that depict the idea of this mythical woman.

I wanted to share my collection. The world needs more smiles. Hope it will inspire you to either burn your bra, or bake a cake...whatever makes your day.

The Domestic Wife

Leave a comment or hello! I have many, many, many more images to add, it will take some time, so bookmark it and stop by often!

Why I Am 67% Strange

2006-12-15T13:35:00.003-06:00

I've been thinking of my Strangeness Test Results and am wondering if perhaps my genetic make-up has something to do with having a slightly high strange-factor.

I am one of those people "blessed" with a large family. Fifty-one first cousins on just my dad's side of the family is no small feat of fertility. Maybe we're all part rabbit, I don't know.

We have a sort of come-and-go policy in our family. That means you stop by anytime of day (or night) you want, for whatever you want, for any reason (or non-reason) you want. The unwritten family rule is when stopping by, you are fully entitled to food, toilet, and to crash on the couch if you so wish. Many of my friends cannot keep my family members names straight, so they give my family more easy-to-remember names. Just a few: "Policeman Cousin", "Afro Woman", "Moustache Guy", "Anorexic Girl", "Amway Salesman", "Crabby Guy", and "Tongue Jse"...the last one is warranted. This cousin has a tongue piercing and spells her name as "Jse" instead of the traditional "Jessie". Of course, she's the designated Black Sheep of the family. Even more so than the Amway guy. I have not given one cousin a key to my house; I don't want to wake up one morning to find Moustache Guy asleep on my couch in his underoos.

So in the true fashion of my family, I decided to reciprocate the come-and-go policy. After dropping my son off at school, I stopped by my grandparent's house at 7:30am. My mom beat me to it, she was already there! I get dragged by the arm and sat down at the kitchen table. My grandmother croons over how cold my hands are as she rubs them between her two hands so hard I feel my knuckles crunch. So it begins...

"You're too small!" My grandma shouts at me. "Why don't you eat?"

"I had a bowl of cereal this morning," I reply as she approaches with some sort of pastry to plop down in front of me.

"See-ray-all?" (that's how she says cereal with her accent) "That isn't breakfast!"
"In America most people eat cereal for breakfast, I'm ok, really." I meekly attempt to plead with her. "Breakfast wars", I call them, the endless family debate fought between those born in America and those born as immigrants. At this point, I'm losing the war. My Total Raisin Bran doesn't stand a chance against my grandma.

"Baba!" she exclaims to my grandpa, "This girl is too good for our food!" Sigh. Over 80 years old, she's a master with laying on the guilt. I pick up the drippingly, gooey, pasty concoction and try to take a small but noticeable bite. The flavor is so rich and sweet that I feel a wave of nausea flow over my body as my blood sugar spikes through my veins, hitting my brain with a slam.

My grandma continues, now satisfied with my efforts, "When I was your age, I looked just like you. Tall and thin. Now look at me! Will happen to you, too!"

"You're beautiful!" I say, "I bet your hubby still thinks you're a hotty" I say to her with a whisper and a wink. She laughs like a school girl and my grandpa shuffles by and gives her a swat on the behind. Too cute.

"You want tea?" My mom asks. Knowing this isn't a question, I replied, "Sure. Any mint?" Boy, I shouldn't have said that last part. This started a 20 minute search by my mom and grandma for mint tea. Seeing your feeble grandmother climb up on a kitchen chair to search the nether regions of her top cupboards about gives you a heart attack. "Really," I keep asserting, "I'm fine, I don't need any tea, please stop!" Falls on deaf ears. Tea bags and containers of loose tea leaves pile up in front of me...Mango and something called "Orange Tangerine Zinger" included. Grabbing a bag of Lipton that looks 30 years old, I begin stirring my tea, resigned.

My eye catches the pile of clipped Walgreens coupons on the table in front of me. Coupons for things like mini cans of mushrooms, pineapple chunks, and Tuff paper towels. One says, "5 VHS Cassettes for $5"...my grandparents don't even own a VCR. My grandpa interrupts my thoughts...

"Did you hear dat poor guy froze ta death in Oreey-gooon?" (Oregon)
"Yes, I heard that, really sad story," I say.
"Yes, sad!" My grandma adds. "But, you can't change what God has written," she rebukes, wagging her finger at me.

Thankfully my grandpa changes the subject..."Who is Mike?!" He questions me. His eyes narrowed, eye brows furled, as he stares at my shirt. "Mike Doughty. It's a band I like," I tell him, knowing its useless. "You wear a man's name on your shirt?!" he thunders, "You wear names of strange men on your clothes?"

My grandma shoves another pastry at me even though I've only had two bites of the first. "You gonna bite something or not?" She shrieks in my ear. Meats, cheeses, breads, and rolls appear all over the table. Oh no, I think. I'm not getting out of this anytime soon. She begins talking about someone named Carnie. I am wondering about a carnival or circus, utterly confused. Then my mom whispers "Connie" in my ear. Oh yes, "Connie", not "Carnie". Thank goodness, that was getting wierd. Meanwhile my grandma pours some cooled tea into a sippy cup for my toddler. She doesn't know in America people don't give tea to babies.

My uncle Mahat shows up and slings down a cup of tea with one fell swoop. "Hi Ruprick" he calls to me. He calls me that after the imbecile brother in the movie Dirty Rotten Scondrels...long story. Soon his empty plate is being zoned in on by grandma's food radar. I take the chance to run.

The rest of the discussion is a mix of some English, some mountain dialect, and something else. English is my grandfather's fifth language, my grandma's third, my mom's second, and my first language, so things can get really interesting. The conversation is peppered with words like: bepperlah, feshbur, gukamal, baba, and gael. If you can guess the dialect AND the meanings of these words, you get 100 bonus points. Come on linguists, I'm not telling or giving hints.

Sometimes when a relative is talking to one of my friends, they'll look across the room at me with a pure look of desperation that I've come to recognize as, "HELP! I have no idea what this person is saying to me!" I usually smile sweetly and wink, afterall, I have to put up with some of their all-American redneck relatives, that one hippy uncle, that aunt that talks so much that she actually apologizes for interrupting HERSELF!

I love families. Considering my heritage now, me being 65% Strange isn't that odd afterall.

I'm 67% Strange

2006-12-15T12:39:00.001-06:00

You Are 67% Strange!

Based on your score, it seems you do have a healthy dose of strangeness. You aren't THAT far out, but you are somewhat bizarre. Congratulations on being different and having some quirks. It makes you an interesting person!

How Strange Are You?

Hmmm, interesting. I've never had my strangeness evaluated before. I guess the fact that I do think "Moxie Crimefighter" is an awesome name for a kid, scored me some points. However, I never considered myself as being one with a serious strange-factor.

I once saw a bumper sticker on a car in New Mexico that read, "Crew Member of the Spaceship Earth". There are lots of strange things in New Mexico. Other than stopping in Tucumcari to use the restroom and Moriarty to eat (all three times, in three different restaurants, my order has been messed up!), we drive through as fast as possible. Those two towns are scary enough. You know when you're actually looking forward to Texas that you are not in a good situation.

So fellow blog-readers...how strange are YOU? Please comment with your results! LOL!

*Update*: I have determined why I am 67% Strange. See the frightening truth here.