This is one of the most wonderful, heartwarming videos I’ve come across in a very long time! Who knew that a ball pit could bring such pleasure to two strangers. Whoever came up with this idea…Pure Genius! Feel free to Reblog and brighten someone’s day!
Enjoy….
This post is dedicated to Be For Peace member Front Page Scribbles who blogs from way out yonder in the Rocky Mountains!
Love,
Cranky
Studying for the final for my first course! Aieeeee! But, wanted to share a smile with my friends before I get back to the books! Have a great Tuesday!
Love,
Cranky
Last week, I received a Panic Call from the Admissions Office of the University. They had requested my transcripts from the high school I graduated from but had yet to receive them.
I imagine that someone from my school was still wandering through the catacombs to find this ancient document and had yet to return from their dark and dusty search.
I was asked if I had ANYTHING that would prove I was a high school graduate. They would be able to accept a copy of my high school diploma until the transcripts arrived.
“Well, I doubt that after forty five years that I still have my diploma on hand, but I guess I could check ‘The Box.'”
“What box?” the admissions director asked.
With a sigh, I said, “You don’t want to know. I’ll get back to you.”
I have kept up the family tradition, passed down by generations of McMahon’s, of owning a Family Box. It’s cardboard and dwells in my closet along with unused shoes and the Christmas decorations.
What’s in it? It’s filled with photos and family memorabilia that never made it to the Family albums, never earned a place of honor on the wall and usually, it’s hard to identify where the contents came from.
Many times over the years, I would stare at the box and swear to go through it and put the photos in albums. Never happens. When the contents threaten to overflow, I just go out and get a bigger box.
A search through “The Box” normally involves spending countless hours staring at dead relatives, places I can’t identify or people who have escaped into the dark recesses of my memory; their names just on the tip of my tongue but never remembered. The box holds the memories but doesn’t always share it’s secrets!
A lot of hours are spent looking at pictures at a younger version of my parents, my siblings and yours truly and of course, my own little darlings. I’ll shake my head when I come across pictures of ex-husbands and reach out to throw them out, but never manage to do so. They were a part of my life, albeit an unpleasant part, and they had earned their place in “The Box.”
I think the only thing that I ever managed to take out of the box and discard was the flower I so carefully wrapped in cellophane from the wrist corsage I wore to my Senior Prom. It had turned into a dangerous looking fungus and turned out to be the source of that funky smell I noticed each time I approached “The Box.”
Having to spend a day or two searching through the box was not what struck fear into my heart. I knew if my box failed to turn up the elusive diploma, it just might be in my deceased sister’s collection which I inherited when she passed.
She didn’t have a box like mine, she was a more prolific family historian. Her collection is stored in two suitcases and three garbage bags.
Of course, my mother who is still alive and kicking (bless her heart) has a box. That box resides in the state of Washington, where my mom now lives, and there is no way I’m jumping a plane to look for my diploma.
After the Admissions departments phone call, I did the next best thing than to having to go to “The Box.” I called the high school and begged the woman who answered to help me out. She took pity on me when I explained about “The Box” and faxed a copy of my transcripts to the University.
Whew, it was a narrow escape! Now I can rest easy and get back to my studies. I did make a note to buy a bigger box…after all, I’ll need room for all of those Christmas pictures I’ll be taking!
If my daughter is reading this, and giggling over my dilemma, she should be forewarned. When I go, honey, you get “The Box.” Tee hee!
Yes my friends, today is Cranky’s 63rd Birthday. So, where’s the party?
So, far I haven’t received one birthday wish. Not a one. Did everybody forget? Am I expecting too much to hope that my loved ones and friends would have circled this day on the calendar?
There’s no party hats, no balloons and my phone is dead silent. You would think that such an important day would at least call for one lousy “Happy Birthday” wish, right?
I realize that 63 is not a milestone birthday filled with Hallmark cards that read, “Fifty Is Nifty” or “Sixty and Still Sexy!” but even a boxed card would be nice. Do I have to wait another couple of birthdays to get a “Sixty Five And Still Alive” banner hanging amid a room filled with black balloons and a cake sinking under the weight of dozens upon dozens of blazing candles?
I crammed this week took all my tests so if I happened to imbibe a little too much Diet Pepsi at the festivities, I would still be able to take time to recuperate before hitting the books again! So, where’s the party?
Oh, wait a minute! I just looked at the clock and discovered it’s only 5:30 AM. Okay, it might be a wee bit early for people to start celebrating.
So, I’m going back to bed. Wake me up when the party starts!
Love,
Cranky
God Bless all of our military heroes, both home and abroad. God Bless those Veterans who served on foreign lands or defended our homeland. God Bless those who made the ultimate sacrifice and did so willingly.
Let us never forget to thank a Veteran for their service, not just today, but every day! They are the reason we are the Home of the Brave and the Land of the Free!
Happy Veterans Day!
Being retired, for some time now Mondays seemed to just blend in with the other six days of the week.
“What’s today?” Dan would ask.
“Does it matter?” I would throw back.
“I should mow the lawn.”
“You can mow it tomorrow, it’s not that high yet.”
“What day is tomorrow?”
“Does it matter?” Then I would ask him if he was holding any two’s, since I needed them to win the game of “Fish” we’d be playing.
Yes, the excitement and thrill of facing a new week was gone. Up until a week ago, the only days that I had to keep track of were for doctor’s appointments and trash day. But, now that I’m in school, the Monday vibes have returned and I’m loving it!
Since last week was my first week of class, and I’m returning to the academic world for the first time in 45 years, I was pretty stressed. There were times, when I felt that my eyes were bleeding from all the reading and my arthritic hands would never unclasp after taking all those notes, I would shout out “What the Hell have I done?”
But, Friday I took my first test and did quite well (B+) and on Saturday morning I took the last test for the week…again, an unamazing B+. But, I’m happy with the scores and Dan gave me a pat on the back…and of course, other assignments I completed during the week might bring that average up a bit…so all is well.
The rest of the weekend was spent on “We” time; Danny and I got to work out in the yard, watch football together and basically, just hang out. I got some rest from the books and he got my total attention for the weekend.
Now that Monday’s here, I’m up and raring to go. It’s been years since I felt the excitement a Monday can bring…new adventures in learning, new stories to tell and a new start to the week. Hell, I feel so good, I might do some “twerking.”
…well, maybe not!
For those of you who don’t share my delight…I understand. I remember waking up to an alarm; getting dressed for work and already starting to count the days until Friday. But, if you are one of these poor souls..cheer up!
I hope everyone has a great week!
Love,
Cranky
When I enrolled in college, I was looking forward to experiencing the thrill and excitement of being a college freshman. Okay, so I’m a little long in the tooth for some of the college activities that most students engage in…I admit it.
At my age, I might have to forego attending the toga parties and since I now abstain from alcohol I guess Keg parties are also out of the question. But, dang it, at least I could wear a Freshman Beanie!
In case some of you youngsters have no idea what I’m referring to, here’s the item that I seem to be missing.
Yes, folks, this is a old time college beanie complete with button. Why was the button so important? Well, back in the fifties, freshman would be stopped in the halls of universities by upperclassmen and the older students would “button” them. That meant that the lucky freshman was required to kneel before the students, touch the button on the beanie and say, “I’m but a lowly freshman.”
This was an old tradition that obviously didn’t carry forth through the many generations since the 50’s. It might be for the best, since if I had to get down on my knees, there’s a possibility that I would need help getting back up (arthritis, you know). And I might have a hard time not using another time honored tradition, called “shooting the bird”, when asked to embarrass myself in front of the entire student body. Yeah, it probably wouldn’t be pretty!
Out of curiousity, I looked around in Cyberspace to see if college students wore beanies anymore. To my surprise, they still have them but they look much different from the ones in the 1950’s.
I did find a huge selection of rather novel beanies that students could wear…if they dared!
To my surprise, when I looked in my college’s website, I found the perfect beanie for me and I’ll be ordering it today.
Cold weather (as low as the 60’s) is drawing near and I want to be prepared to properly represent my college when I attend the football games (oh…we don’t have a team? Shucks!) But, I will take a picture of this lowly freshman wearing my new beanie once it arrives…maybe and maybe not! We’ll have to see how it looks with grey hair tucked underneath!
You’ll notice…there’s no button!
Well, back to the books.
Love,
Cranky
There I was, in the Admissions office, going down the list of requirements that were necessary to gain acceptance into Keiser University.
“We’ll need your High School transcripts,” Doreen, my Admissions counselor said.
“I don’t have them.” I said.
“We can accept a copy.”
“I don’t have them. I do have my yearbook…will that do?” I thought having my picture in the senior yearbook would suffice to show that I was a 1968 high school graduate. After all, I look exactly the same as when I was 17, right?
Evidently, that isn’t enough to satisfy the registration demons, so today I must call my old high school and request my school transcripts. I’m happy to say that the high school still exists and has not been declared a historical monument…yet. I’m very curious as to what a copy of my original transcripts will look like.
In 1968, teachers didn’t have computers to track their student’s grades. They had what was termed “The Hell Book” by students such as myself, but were actually called “grade books” by our instructors.
The instructor would use a pen and mark down your attendance, your participation grade (this grade was usually based on your ability not to snore in class), your homework grades (including the 0’s for the one’s the dog ate) and of course, your test grades. At the end of each marking period, the teachers would then average your total and again record it on your Report Card!
In elementary school, we got A’s, B’s, C’s, etc. In high school, much like today, you got a number that represented your total grade. Anything in the high 80’s to 90’s and you would run home eagerly to show your parents. Grades in the 70’s were still respectable, but you didn’t run quite so fast to show it off.
Grades of 69 or under and you dragged your feet until it was dark and hoped your parents would forget that today was Report Card Day.
So, seeing that my transcripts were recorded for all time using a pen, I wondered how they have fared over the years.
Will they look like parchment paper found in the King’s tombs of Egypt? Will the ink have disappeared?
Will they have those special notes teachers always deemed necessary to stick on our report cards in the “Comment” sections? Snide little remarks, such as, “Mary Ellen could do much better if she would just APPLY herself!” God, I hope not! If I’m lucky, my memory will be accurate and the college will find that I was a fairly good student.
It wasn’t hard to maintain a “B” Average (I don’t know if I was a B+ or B-) for me…I was in Secretarial Course and working after school and on Saturdays in an office, so I got lots of on the job training.
Also, the majority of my subjects were based on turning me into a prim and proper secretary, complete with stenography and typing skills. (Anyone who still remembers or uses their hard won steno skills….raise your hands. Anyone?) Algebra, biology, and Latin were for the college bound kids.
Well, I do remember going to a graduation ceremony and receiving a High School Diploma…so how bad could those transcripts be? My main concern, after 45 years hibernating in the dark basement of Bassick High School, that they are still intact! We’ll see!
I imagine the phone call tomorrow could possibly sound like this.
“Good Morning, Bassick High School. How may I direct your call?” a young eager voice will ask.
“Yes, I need a copy of my High School Transcripts. Could you tell me how to get them?”
“No problem…what year did you graduate?”
“1968”
“No, really, when did you graduate?”
Sigh.
Some of you might have noticed that Cranky’s been kinda quiet for the past week. Well, I’ve been pretty busy working on something that has been on my bucket list for a very, very, long time.
Need a hint? Okay, here it is!
Yes, my friends, I’m going back to school! I have spent the last week going back and forth to Keiser University and jumping through the hoops necessary to enroll for my Associate of Arts Degree!
Whaaat? Wondering how I’m going to take care of Danny, the house, and be a full-time student? Well, all of the classes are going to be Online and I only take one class per month. I’m sure that those 30 days are intensive, but since I’m sitting home twiddling my thumbs I decided to give it a shot.
My goal is to get my Associates Degree and, if I’m still alive and kicking once I get my diploma, I’m going on to get a degree in Journalism. Why? Because I want to…and I’ve always dreamed of being a journalist.
But, what does Danny think of my daring return to the hallowed halls of education? He is proud as punch that I was accepted and has been a strong cheering team through the entire week.
But, I also think that Danny envisions me turning into the college co-ed he always fantasied about!
Sadly, my school clothes will probably look more like this!
But, since he’s being great about the whole deal, I might have to go out and get something special to wear for the evenings! I know I’ll be tired, but I’ll give it my best shot!
The man deserves no less!
Seriously, folks, I am so excited and thrilled to have been accepted and to be finally living my life long dream.
Now, they tell me since I only have one course per month, I’ll still have enough time to keep up with my writing and my blogging. Goodness, I hope so, since I now need the money from a best seller to pay the student loans I signed my soul away today to get!
So, my friends, wish me luck. I just know that I’ll have lots to tell you as the school year goes on, so hang in there and I’ll keep you updated!
Love,
Cranky
P.S. You might want to click HERE to find out what other exciting news I got this week!
Long Story Short "Story Of The Month" November 2013
