Red-Blooded Falcon

I hear that our Falcon is a little under the weather today from his chemo. Nasty stuff, that chemo. But if anybody can get through it in good spirits, Falcon can.
This is a memory from our high school days, way back in the mid-70’s. Our families were close, and we were always the last bunch to leave the church after every service. While many Sundays held interesting mini-adventures, this night was a little different. There was blood.

It was after the Sunday night service, and our parents were talking up a storm at the back of the church in the Fellowship Hall. Us kids were messing around at the front of the sanctuary. Falcon took up the position of the preacher at the pulpit and issued an invitation to the imaginary congregation to invite Jesus into their hearts, or else, punctuating the altar call with a switchblade. As expected, he got a huge laugh from the small contingent of teens sitting on the platform and in the first couple of rows of pews.

With the resounding laugh that ensued, he panicked a little, not wanting to draw parental attention, and he went to close the illegal dagger real quick-like.

With the swift and nearly sure move stopped midway, Falcon sliced the tiny vein in his class-ring finger, left hand. Blood spurted out of the digit across the pulpit in a thin, red arc. His surprised expression was funnier than his ultimatum of an altar call. I had seen the stream of crimson and his right hand immediately applying direct pressure to the wound, a good Boy Scout move.

He pulled out his handkerchief and wrapped it around the dripping finger and held it tight. He then told Falconette to go tell our parents that we were ready to go and that he was going to drive us home in his car. We wiped the blood from the pulpit and made our exit through the office to the parking lot.

So our brave, bleeding pilot drove home with his finger being gripped by a bloody handkerchief and his right hand leaving me to shift the Falcon 3-on-the-tree.

“VrroooOOom-SECOND-vvrroooOOOom-THIRD-rmmmmmmmm-squeek, (stop sign).
FIRST-vrrrrooOOOOM-SECOND…” etc. I don’t remember much after that, the excitement having been spent on the gear-shift end of the 64 Ford Falcon “ambulance”.

Hope this makes you feel a little better, Falcon. Just be careful with sharp instruments and chemotherapy!

International Hug A Swede Day

Yes, I have on good authority (Mikael Hansson [a born-in-Sweden-Swede] to be exact) that today is International Hug A Swede Day.

This is long overdue, in light of all the Olle and Sven jokes out there and the Wally Walrus portrayals of Swedes. Ve need to rise up and be counted. And hugged, by golly! Yiminy Crickets, this is precisely the sort of thing that will show us as what we are; by and large a very huggable and lovable people with a proud heritage of hugging and such.

And who wouldn’t want to hug one or more of us? I know I like hugging Swedes. My girls are very huggy people, as is my Dad. However, since I outweigh and tower over nearly everyone on the immediately recognizable-as-a-Swede list, I am careful not to squash anyone. This could be an issue, believe me. If I were to lose my footing or carelessly grab and squeeze, somebody would get hurt. Crushing someone is less a display of affection and more of a display of aggression.

I am a Swede, by way of Texas City and Alvin, TX, but of Swedish lineage nonetheless. So if you see ME or my DAD, or any of my KIDS, give them a HUG.

And hurry. We’re running out of time for today. Of course, I may extend the celebration to a whole week, if necessary.

New Wordy Guy (IX)

I have been SUPER BIZZY at work and my iMac @ home is "on hiatus", hence the scarcity of blogging of late...So here's another Wordy Guy for your brain to ponder on.

REMEMBER — No consulting any kind of dictionary or reference material.

Eldritch

A) An official who served as a mediator of disputes in medieval England

B) Weird or eerie

C) A medicinal herb that grows wild in New Zealand

As always, put your guesses in the comments. I know that a lot of you are thinking about it, so just make your guess. You'll learn something either way!

*UPDATE*
Yes, one of the Cactus clan got the right answer, Miss Sus chose correctly; it's "B" Weird or eerie". As always, I appreciate the readers and the guessers playing my lame little game. Hey, it's either this or check your Facebook account all afternoon, right?

Of course.

Really Windy in Texas

Quick thought this morning: it's really, really windy today down here on the coast. They say that some nasty weather is brewing, with us in the sights.

North Texas has already dealt with "suspected tornados". What the heck is a "suspected tornado"? And why does it matter?

Are the authorities out there looking for these suspects? What are they going to do to them when they catch them? Seed them and make them rain out? I think that would be capital punishment. I suppose they would just be locked up (where?) and simply wait till they dissipate on their own. With no appeals.

Back here, the wind is so strong, I saw it peel an unripened plum. A horse standing in a field facing the wrong way was turned inside out.

I sent my petite 12 year old to school with a rock in her pocket. Just as a precaution.

Foto Test

So I am testing a file for a student of mine, a rocket scientist, literally! He did this in Photoshop after Van Gogh's Starry Night.

Checking for color rendition....

Wordy Guy VIII

OK, for you people craving a new GeezerChron, maybe a Wordy Guy isn't what you were hoping for, but hey, it will have to do for now.

So by now, you know the rules, and this time don't just start up an office pool or use it on your freinds, go ahead and comment with your choice. Take a chance, for cryin' out loud.

So here's the word:

Snurd

A) a stub of paper, as in the claim ticket from the dry cleaners
B) a hidden pocket in the pants of a military uniform
C) contracting to a shriveled form, as in a prune

Please comment. Please? Don't make me beg.

That will be next time.

**ANSWER TIME**
The answer is "C", contracting to a shriveled form.

Of course, there will be those who dispute the definition, but I urge you to trust me and not whine.

Don't make me pull this blog over, 'cuz I will!,

Wordy Guy VII

Yeah, so here's another Wordy Guy.

Suffice to say, it's April Fool's Day, perfectly appropriate for me, and I hope to fool you into guessing the wrong word.

Please enter in the comments, and no more lame excuses, all you have to do is "sign in as "other"".


Tsan tsa
A) an alcohol-soaked gauze for cleaning wounds
B) a primitive native ritual
C) a shrunken head

Play for fabulous prizes! No cheating!

**UPDATE**
The answer is C, a shrunken head.

RobV is the winner, the first with the correct answer. He will receive a hat full of nothing, minus the hat. That's the kind of hat I wear every day.

There is a dispute by a non-commenter; she maintains that the tsan tsa IS the ritual of MAKING a shrunken head, but I dismissed her. It's MY game. And specifically, the definition didn't specify any particular ritual, and since the ritual is named for the artifact created, the answer remains "C".