Haooy St.Patrick's Day

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Thank you for Cheering me up Blue Ribbon Bloggers!

I hold the Blue Ribbon Bloggers in the highest esteem - right up there with the likes of Charlotte from Charlotte's Web, a box of Peanut Butter Panic from Blue Bunny Ice Cream, and a copy of the image above of Lucy and Ethel on the job at the candy company. That's why I would like to present you with my You Cheer Me Up Award. We often never get the chance to show our appreciation to the people or for the things that cheer us up. For example, I would give anything for the opportunity to give E.B.White, the author of Charlotte's Web, the You Cheer Me Up Award but I will not have that opportunity...

Nor will I be in the position to give an award to Lucy and Ethel for the whole idea of them on the job at the Candy Company - trying to eat candy as fast as the conveyor belt delivered it... it is a dream that is simply out of the question...

Although, I can give the bloggers who make me laugh until my face hurts this award... and I can give it to the bloggers whose writing voice comforts me when I'm feeling lost or inspires me when I'm feeling blue. Therefore, if your blog is awarded the You Cheer Me Up Award it's because it possesses one or all three of the qualities mentioned and I thank you for it.

I wrote the original post for the You Cheer Me Up Award on A Nice Place In The Sun, however, I also wanted to award all of you by posting on the Blue Ribbon Bloggers site as well. Here is a copy of the award and code for all of you to pass along to the bloggers who cheer you up, or to just to post for a laugh in your sidebar.

I listed some examples of who I wish I could award with a You Cheer Me Up Award, although, you may feel differently. Therefore, if you are a recipient and would like to pass some awards along yourself you can use some examples of what cheers you up, and pass the award to the bloggers you have an opportunity to thank for cheering you up. Here are the rules or instructions:)

If you are a recipient of the You Cheer Me Up Award, please find the blogs that cheer you up, copy the code to post on your sidebar and pass Ethel and Lucy across the blogosphere. You can use what cheers you up in your post, or copy this one, but please send your award recipients back to the original post on A Nice Place In The Sun to get a copy of the award code to post the image and read the instructions. I want to try to maintain a page of original and ongoing award recipients, so feel free to let me know if you've received an award when you pick up the image code.

Thanks and congrats to all Blue Ribbon Bloggers, who are some of the best in the blogosphere because you cheer a variety of people up every day with a variety of different posts from all over the Internet. I'm grateful and honored to play a part in such a fantastic community. Cheers, and have fun dancing, singing, playing, laughing- and taking advantage of the opportunity to cheer each other up!

Congrats!

(here's the code for the award:)
<a href="http://aniceplaceinthesun.blogspot.com/"> <img alt="Cheering me up Award" src="http://i223.photobucket.com/albums/dd214/AnnieCL/CheerUpAward4.jpg"/></a>

Merry Christmas To All Blue Ribbon Bloggers And Readers

Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year to all Blue Ribbon Bloggers and readers!

Do You Remember Your First Childhood Crush?

Do you remember your first childhood crush? Mine was on a boy named Dexter, in my third grade class.

I don't remember much about him, except that he loved to draw, and drew a perfect Charlie Brown from Peanuts. Dexter sat across from me in class, so I watched him draw everyday instead of listening to our teacher. Actually, my third grade teacher's voice was reminiscent of the adult voices in the Charlie Brown television specials anyway-
a muffled bloc, bloc, bloc ... Our poor teacher rambled a bunch of jumbled grown-up words, that we "bright-eyed and bushy tailed" third graders, hadn't the slightest interest in, especially me, since Dexter was the center of my world. Our teacher's name was Mrs. Keysler, she wore cat-eyed sixties style glasses with a chain that jangled when she walked, thereby warning us of her presence at recess.

Anyway back to Dexter, who I wouldn't remember as well if it weren't for a humiliating experience in class one day. I was staring at him, my heart ricocheting in my chest, when I noticed a shiny whistle on his desk. Any other time I wouldn't have taken my eyes off Dexter, but this day was different, because he brought the whistle, and the whistle was stiff competition. Dexter's new whistle wasn't one of those toy whistles one would find in a Kracker Jack box... no sirree. Dexter's whistle was a genuine silver army grade whistle, and I was fascinated by it. Dexter noticed me staring at it resting on the corner of his desk by his drawing pad, so he quietly picked it up and placed it in my hand, while Mrs. Keyster continued with bloc, bloc, bloc, bah, bloc in the background... I felt an array of exciting new emotions overwhelm me, beginning with feeling like a different person. I was holding the whistle Dexter put in my hand, and sitting close enough to him to touch his copper colored hair. I was in a trance as I turned the whistle over and over in my hand, put it in my mouth, and blew it as hard as I could- the room went silent.

However, the hushed sound of children’s voices began to fill the empty silence, followed by that snickering sound children make before the finger pointing begins... It's such an annoying tactic among tattlers, whose goal at this time in their life, is early retirement from their duties as teachers pet. I could feel the stares, and of course, see their self-serving tattler fingers rise to the occasion, which happened to be in my direction! I heard one little girl cry, “She is sooo dumb!” as I sat there horrified, my face growing hot and flushed with humiliation.

Humiliation is just one of an array of emotions I associate with the day I blew Dexter's whistle; it's also one of those funny to me now, not so funny then, experiences especially since my teacher made me stand in the back of the classroom the rest of the day.

After that, Dexter (who may have turned out to be an illustrator) looked at me with a cautious look on his face for what seemed like the rest of my life, and the girl who called me “soooo dumb” turned out to be one of my closest friends, even if it was years later. We never know what our children are going through in a day, or experiencing with their first crush, do we?


More posts from this author on A Nice Place In The Sun

The Laughing Azaleas

Christy, from Christy's Coffee Break and fellow Blue Ribbon Blog member tagged me with her Freaky Friday meme in September, as embarrassing as that it is to admit. It took me this long to respond because I couldn't think of one weird or interesting thing that happened to me, until I found this old picture of my grandmothers Azalea bush. This is a story I've never told anyone.

This meme was written with the option to tag, but if you have a bizarre memory I would suggest you write about it. Because I may not have remembered this experience if I hadn't been wondering what to write for this meme, and I'm glad I remembered. In addition, it would be sad to see this meme die out just because no one can think of anything. So do some brain storming and try to think of a bizarre experience that happened to you, I think you'll be glad you did.

The Laughing Azalea Bush

My grandmother’s house rested behind a circular driveway made of gravel. I remember the gravel changing the color of my bicycle tires when I was a child... Those little white shells used for driveways do the same thing, except the tires change a white chalky color instead of rusty gravel. My grandmother Nana's house and yard were paradise and to me concrete evidence that heaven existed. The three-acre wonderland was everything a twelve-year-old child needed to find satisfaction in his/her surroundings. I spent as much time in Nana’s yard as possible, although I knew she would put me to work before the end of the day. However, the sheer pleasure of being in her fabulous yard was more than enough compensation for picking up sticks and raking leaves all afternoon. My siblings and I found pure joy in everything we did there. Whether we were playing games, climbing trees, or working, it was an environment perfumed with the intoxicating smells of magnolia blossoms and azalea bushes. In addition, within the branches of the trees lay the excitement of whatever new Louisiana wildlife creature we had recently decided to adopt. After all, everything has to eat and the yard belonged as much to the animals as the rest of us.

That is for animals, because I didn't feel the same way about insects, even if they are living things, and I wished they didn't populate bushes. Especially since Nana’s job for me entailed rescuing azalea bushes from a certain strangulation by a honey suckle vine. Suffering from agoraphobia in the South was a nightmare within itself, so I was already ear marked as a sissy because of my paralyzing fear of insects, especially spiders, by the time I became a yard worker. I spent one weekend grounded after spending the night at Nana’s with a friend. My crime was letting out a blood-curdling scream one Saturday morning, after my friend woke me pointing to the most terrifying spider ever invented above my head!

My agoraphobia continued to cause problems for me, especially on my job at Nana's, due to the fear of running into my spider friend again. The problem progressed to the point to where every time I worked in the yard, I let out blood curtailing screams imaging spiders falling on me, no doubt a flashback from that fateful morning.

Hence, by the time I heard voices in the bushes one day, my grandmother had grown accustomed to my blood curdling screams. The day in question is the day I heard laughing from within an azalea bush under attack. It was a bush closest to the road; in fact, the bush would've been directly on the road, if not for the ditch between the bushes and the yard. Just think of everything lined up in this order: the front yard, the bushes, other foliage, a ditch, then the road.

I was supposed to pull the honey suckle vines from the bushes then carry them to an old well we used to burn weeds and sticks. But I wanted to keep as much distance from the creatures as possible, so I'd grab a vine and run in the opposite direction until it broke away from the bush- I would repeat this action until the vine released it's grip on the bush and set it free. But, every time I repeated this procedure, I could see Nana becoming more aggravated with me for making a big mess of the rest of the yard. I prayed I would get finished before she finally lost patience with me and completely let go of her composure.

This was my routine: grab a vine, turn around, and run! Grab a vine, turn around, and run!

That is until the fateful day in question, when I heard what sounded like voices coming from the foliage on the other side of the bush. Actually, I heard a child’s laugh that was so real I thought it was a friend of mine watching me from the street. Excited about who came to visit, I walked inside the foliage, which resembled a little forest, only to find it empty, not a soul was there. I shouted my friend’s name: “Ellen?” Dead silence, one of those eerily dead silences, coupled with the shivery feelings of being alone in the dense foliage. What followed was the best blood curdling screams I've summoned to this day! I couldn’t stop screaming; I was so scared I couldn’t find my way out of the foliage and onto the other side of the bushes. I could see my grandmother running from the porch, shouting, “Be still, Ann. Be still! “

She told me later that she thought I had been bitten by a snake. She also led me to some old steps three or so feet from the sound of the laugh. The steps led to a house built before Nana’s which burned down some seventy-five to one-hundred years before.

Was it the imagination of an imaginative already-petrified child, maybe, or the laughter from one a hundred years before?


Authors Note: This post is a gift from a member of the Blue Ribbon Bloggers, in addition to a post in the archives of A Nice Place In The Sun.

Thanks for reading.

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My Blue Ribbon Blogger Award Acceptance Speech

When trying to decide what to contribute to Gracie's blog, I hadn't the slightest idea what to post. I like the ideology behind the concept of honoring people for their kind contribution's to the blogosphere, but I wasn't sure what I had to contribute. However, the fact that Gracie Belle believes I have something to contribute means something to me, and I hope to honor her efforts. Thank you Gracie Belle for asking me to join the Blue Ribbon Bloggers blog, and I'm honored to be among such fabulous bloggers.

When I received the Blue Ribbon Blogger Award I was in my fourth month of blogging, and recovering from a negative experience. Only moments before the original blog fairy sprinkled me with her pixie dust, I was truly having a bad day. However, you can tell how happy I was to be noticed by another blogger, let alone given an award.

Now, I'm happy to share with Gracie Belle, how her mothers forthcoming spirit, changed a day in my life. I didn't know the original blog fairy but she noticed me, an experience I will no doubt remember for some time to come. Your mother made a difference in the life of a stranger, Gracie Belle, and I can't think of a better legacy than that. Here's my acceptance speech

My Blue Ribbon Blogger Award Acceptance Speech In August

The illusive blog fairy has honored me with the blue ribbon blogger award! I was down in an unusual way today when I noticed a message in my message box on MyBlogLog from the blog fairy!

It was the kindest message: “Congratulations! You have touched people with your writing. You are a blue-ribbon blogger!”

When I was a child, my brothers and I used to catch lightening bugs in mason pickle jars in my grandmothers backyard. We let them go of course, but before we did we would watch them in the jar for a few minutes. I wondered if they were friends with any fairies.

There is an innate goodness about the idea of fairies and the mystical magic they represent. I wished they were more than a dream and now I know that they are! The blog fairy is one incarnation of that dream. I wonder what else may be in store since fairies help us realize our dreams and therefore help us make them come true.

When I went to the blog fairy’s web site and copied this from her profile, "I keep watch over all the blogs and bloggers in the vast blogosphere. It is my joy to shine light on those that show love and kindness and to honor them." Francesca Faerie is written as the name on that profile.


She also has this quote listed by Lynn Holland.

“Fairies are invisible and inaudible like angels. But their magic sparkles in nature.” ~ Lynn Holland

Here is my favorite Beatrice Potter quote and what she thought of fairies,

"I remember I used to half believe and wholly play with fairies when I was a child. What heaven can be more real than to retain the spirit-world of childhood, tempered and balanced by knowledge and common-sense...?”

"Beatrix Potter’s Journal, 17 November 1896, from the National Trust collection."


Blog fairy thank you for reminding us of the fairies we knew in childhood, we have had them hidden within our grown-up hearts. Thank you for this honorable blue ribbon blogger award!