13 Thursday Last Words of Famous People

1.Yes, it's tough, but not as tough as doing comedy.
When asked if he thought dying was tough.~~ Edmund Gwenn, actor, d. September 6, 1959

2.Am I dying or is this my birthday?
When she woke briefly during her last illness and found all her family around her bedside.~~ Lady Nancy Astor, d. 1964

3.Now comes the mystery.~~ Henry Ward Beecher, evangelist, d. March 8, 1887

4.Friends applaud, the comedy is finished.~~ Ludwig van Beethoven, composer, d. March 26, 1827

5.I am not the least afraid to die.~~ Charles Darwin, d. April 19, 1882

6.I've never felt better.~~ Douglas Fairbanks, Sr., actor, d. December 12, 1939

7.Why do you weep. Did you think I was immortal?~~ Louis XIV, King of France, d. 1715

8.Here am I, dying of a hundred good symptoms.~~ Alexander Pope, writer, d. May 30, 1744

9.I owe much; I have nothing; the rest I leave to the poor.~~ François Rabelais, writer, d. 1553

10.Don't let it end like this. Tell them I said something.~~ Pancho Villa, Mexican revolutionary, d. 1923

11.I have offended God and mankind because my work did not reach the quality it should have.~~ Leonardo da Vinci, artist, d. 1519

12.Either that wallpaper goes, or I do.~~ Oscar Wilde, writer, d. November 30, 1900

13.Go away. I'm all right.~~ H. G. Wells, novelist, d. 1946

A Pattern of My Life

Ever since I became an adult I have had a proclivity for spilling things (food) on my shirt. Someone once told me it's because there is a shelf to catch things. Today while at work I dropped pieces of food out of my burrito three times. Afterwards I scrubbed my shirt twice: once with just water and once with water and soap. The spots are still there. I am a thing of great beauty today for sure.

I have thought about making a product of beautiful stickers that look like flowers, geometric shapes, words, little animal, etc., that could be put on a person's shirt to cover the spots temporarily. Some of the words could be "spot", "messy person", "mind your own business", "you are way too close", "great beauty." I would sell these stickers on TV for $9.99.

If I really knew how to market these stickers, I might really try to do it!

Let's Start Writing our Story

There are several of you who indicated on another blog entry that you would like to help write a short story for children. I think this story may also be written more for adults and about children. I said I would write the opening paragraphs, name the main characters with some of their distinguishing characteristics, give several scenes so you each could choose one, and then write the final paragraph(s). Actually, choose two scenes you would like to write in order of preference, and then I'll assign them on a first-come-first-serve basis. Here goes.

Main character: Bear Smith. Ten years old. Somewhat of a klutz. Always looking for adventure. Mostly obedient to parents. Loves Jesus. Helps take care of his five-year-old sister. Sometime stutters. Physical description: brown eyes, short for his age, freckle-faced, light brown hair, big feet for his age, scar on left forearm, bony knees and elbows.

Sister: Summer Smith. Five years old. Likes to follow Bear around. Likes to climb and get stuck. Asks strange questions. Physical description: thin blond shoulder-length hair, brown eyes, stubby nose, skinny.

Bear's best friend: Tommy Valdez. Ten years old. Hispanic. Good at sports. Also likes adventure. Parents don't pay him much attention. Physical description: black hair, dark brown eyes, very clear skin, scar on forehead, tall.

Bear's enemy: Greggie Ross. Eleven years old. Bully. Thinks he's is charge of everything. Steals. Calls names. Very tender toward dogs. Physical description: shaggy blond hair, blue eyes, braces, big mouth, no neck, bigger than other kids his age.

Mom: Marie Smith. About 40 years old. Her mother passed away last summer. Cries often. Bakes wonderful desserts but burns most everything else. Loves her kids and worries. Teaches Sunday School. Loves God and husband. Physical: Short dark brown hair, brown eyes, 30 pounds overweight, 5'3" tall.

Dad: Scott Smith. About 40 years old. Works 60 hours a week for information technology business. Doesn't go to church but used to. Drives a car with problems. Sometimes is gruff with his children and wife. Physical: Blond hair nearly shaved, brown eyes, thin, tall--6'3".

Peripheral possible people: not main characters, but may be included with Bear's group or with Greggie's group. You name them--don't use too much description of them. Mother may have a friend of your choice.

Possible scenes:
1. How Bear got his name.
2. Greggie and his friends have an altercation with Bear and his friends.
3. Summer climbs a tree and is rescued or comforted by Bear.
4. Bear falls down a hole.
5. Bear meets a bear.
6. Lesson in Sunday School on "Love your enemies" and how that affects his relationship with Greggie.
7. Greggie, the hurt dog and Bear.
8. Tommy falls on his bicycle and has to go to hospital.
9. Bear and Tommie get lost in the woods.

I don't want to have all these incidents in the same short story, but each of you (Jen, Moms, Kay, Julie and Robin) will choose two to begin with, and then write 3-5+ paragraphs about the one you are assigned. Then we should have a good story. I know we will have different styles of writing and that's what we want. Write freely. Please post your part of the story as a comment on my blog. Then I will add it to the rest of the story.

THE ADVENTURES OF BEAR SMITH

It was summer and there wasn't anything to do. Bear had already gone to the library, watched television and cleaned his room. His little sister, Summer, was nagging him to take her to the park down the street. If mom would let him, that was better than doing nothing.

"M-M-Mom, can Summer and me go to the park?" he hollered to his mom who was in the kitchen.

In her most teacher-like voice she answered, "May Summer and I go to the park? And yes, you may go to the park. Take your watch. I don't want you to be gone more than an hour. Keep an eye on Summer at all times. Don't leave her alone. And Bear?"

"Yes, Mom," he sighed with impatience.

"Don't talk to strangers or go with anyone even if you know them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mom. We'll be b-b-back in an hour." Summer and Bear walked out the door and down the street. It was going to be a great day after all.

Writing a Story Together

I have an idea. Would any of you be interested in helping me write a story for children? I would write the opening paragraphs. Then others who are interested would one at a time write about an event of your choosing to further plot. I suppose I would write the ending. Let me know in the next day or two if you are interested, and we'll get started. It could be fun.

When I was a little girl, my best friend was the Tooth Fairy. I would say things like, "The Tooth Fairy and I are going to play dolls;" "The Tooth Fairy is taking me to the store." Apparently I talked about the Tooth Fairy a lot.

One day my mother told me there was no such thing as a Tooth Fairy. It broke my heart. I couldn't believe it, not after we had meant so much to each other. At that time, she was the love and center of my strange little life. I was bereft for awhile, but I guess I got over it. The Tooth Fairy and I haven't even talked for years. I wonder if she is still out there.

Also when I was a little girl, one day I suddenly had problems swallowing. I couldn't get cereal down. My mom even bought some peanut candy for me, but I couldn't get it down. Over the week or two that I couldn't swallow, I lost weight and looked haggard. Finally my mom took me to the doctor. She thought maybe I had a growth in my throat.

The doctor looked in my throat, but there was nothing wrong. As soon as he said the actual words, "There's nothing wrong with you," I was cured. It was a miracle. I just needed to hear the words from someone who knew.

Sometimes I think about trying to get that problem back--not being able to swallow--so I could lose some weight. But then I think about the problems I could have if I really made myself not be able to swallow, and it makes me nervous, so I don't do it.

I'm sure I was a strange child, but I think everyone probably was. How about you? Will you confess to doing something strange as a child?

Fathers

I didn't write about dads yesterday. I never did get on the computer. Even though my husband would have shared, I didn't ask him to. I did fix him fried chicken dinner with mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob, and salad--his very favorite meal. He was very happy. He thanked me several times and told me how good it was several times. You would think I would cook this meal more often for him. He is a good dad to our two children.

I've written about my dad before. I feel like when I was a child I didn't know my dad very well. He was pretty strict, and I was somewhat afraid of him. I got to know him better when I was grown. He was a good man. I'm glad he was my father.

Waving Skirts

My son was in a Christian school Christmas program when he was in kindergarten or 1st grade. There was a set of twins named Timora and Johna also in the program. They had new skirts for the program (when I was little, my mother wouldn't let me wear skirts because I had no hips to hold them up). The girls had a lot of fun with those skirts. During the program they slipped their arms inside the skirts at the waistband and then proceeded to raise their arms and lift the entire fronts of the skits in the air. They were waving with their skirts.

Here all the kids were singing songs about Jesus and His birth. The teachers were sitting on the front pew going crazy about the waving skirts. One of the teachers finally got up on stage and told the girls to stop. They had been oblivious about causing any problem. They were just having a good time with new skirts.

Now here I am 26 or so years later, and I still have that memory. Those girls made quite an impression.