THE CRACK OF THE BAT . . .
WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM ABOVE

Maddy's softball game got called off in the middle of the first inning because of lightning, thunderboomers and a sudden shower.

She had just been up, and swung at the first pitch. CRACK! It was a great hit -- hard and low -- and the shortstop couldn't handle it, so Maddy made it to first base easily.

She was sad that the game was called before it really got going, but happy to have a hit.

She said she wishes that RIGHT when she swung at the ball, one of those big thundercracks would have sounded. "Everybody would have thought that was the sound of my bat hitting the ball!" she grinned. "They would have run out onto the field, lifted me up in the air, and carried me around, going 'Woo hoo!!!!!'"

If you could score runs for having a good imagination, she'd be a Hall of Famer for sure.

DOUBLE, DOUBLE
TROUBLE, TROUBLE IN THE BURGER KING LINE

Maddy and her little fifth-grade friends have a new game at recess. It's called "Double, Double."

You square off with a partner, and bump fists (every time you say "double") and either slap the palms of your hands (when you say "this") or the backs of your hands (when you say "that"), in this fast-paced rhythm:

Double, double this, this
Double, double that, that
Double this
Double that
Double double this that

Well, we were waiting in line at the Burger King order window last night, and Maddy was trying to teach it to me. My aging pea brain was not able to get it right until about the fifth try. We were cracking up over my clumsiness, and the car windows were down. Just then, I caught the eye of the mom in the car in the other order lane. She was cracking up, too, and nodded her approval at us.

They call them "teachable moments" -- anytime you can interact with your child and learn something new together. That other mom in the Burger King line was totally on board with what we were doing. It was pretty nice mom-to-mom radar. And no, I still can't QUITE get that game right, but will have fun and keep trying!

HEYYY! WHAT IS THAT PLANT DOING
IN A REPUBLICAN BACK YARD?!?

I was a one-woman S.W.A.T. team in gardening today. I worked from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., even though it reached 97 degrees, a record for this day in May.

We've had to cut several lower limbs off each tree in a long row of beautiful big pine trees. As a result, the sun gets down to the ground a lot better now, and millions of pesky weeds have sprung up.

As a certified, card-carrying cheapo, I refuse to buy new plants to crowd out the weeds. Instead, I am dividing my already overcrowded existing perennials to take up the new garden space.

So today, I broke apart and moved several huge clumps of day lilies, mums, lamb's ear, columbine and a few other varieties-- hundreds of plants -- into new digs -- literally. Whew! It was work, and I started getting really tired.

I was bending over pulling weeds when suddenly, a GIGANTIC bumblebee buzzed by and lighted on the nearest plant -- a huge bleeding heart shrub.

My dazed mind instantly decided that that plant, identified with "bleeding-heart liberals," has no business in the back yard garden of a proudly conservative member of the GOP.

At that point, I realized that I had had a LITTLE too much sun . . . so I went inside and regained my sanity with a giant glass of iced tea. Actually, bleeding hearts are just about my favorite flower, so I'm glad I realized that I was just a little sun-crazy at that point.

BUCK! BUCK! BUCK! BUCK-KAW!!!!!
STILL CLUCKING OVER THIS MOTHER'S DAY THOUGHT

Had a most lovely Mother's Day, with tender talks, cards and gifts from all my chicks.

Speaking of chicks . . . my "quote a day" book had an outstanding message for Mother's Day. It was unattributed, so don't know who to thank for this:

THE ROOSTER MAY CROW . . . BUT IT'S THE HEN WHO DELIVERS THE GOODS.

Love it! I love men, too -- but this little piece of wisdom is Grade A.

SOMETIMES IT'S YOUR BELOVED,
BUT SOMETIMES IT'S YOU

We were taking a lovely spring walk when my husband looked over at a house, pondered for a second, and then said:

"Pods! What a good idea!"

I looked in that direction. There was a tree there with brown seed pods hanging down. Uhhh . . . was my husband complimenting God for the ingenious way that He designed seed pods?!?!?! Gulp. I smiled a bemused smile (translation: "You dork!") and said nothing.

A split-second later, I saw the brightly-colored portable STORAGE SHED that was right next to the tree with the pods. Apparently, they were doing some remodeling and were storing furniture and stuff on site. The brand name on the storage shed: PODS. As in . . .

Ohhhhh! THOSE were the PODS that he thought were such a good idea! THAT'S what he meant!

I was the dork this time. All I can say is . . . POD'n ME!!!!! :>)

KIDS ARE TECHNICALLY MORE ACCURATE
THAN THE MOST HIGH-FALUTIN' ADULT

Got this joke via email and loved it:

While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, a minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased.


The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said:

"Glory be unto the Faaather, and unto the Sonnn, and into the hole he goooes."

(Do you want that line used at your funeral? Might give your mourners a smile!)

GO, GRANNY, GO, GRANNY,
GO, GRANNY, GO!

When asked by a young patrol officer, "Did you know you were speeding?"  . . .

. . . the 83-year-old woman talked herself out of a ticket by stating:

"Yes, Officer. I was trying to get there before I forgot where I was going!"