by Lois Jamieson
I hope you had a chance to play a joke on April Fool’s Day before someone got you first.As teen-agers, my brothers and I loved to play April Fool’s jokes on our mother. She always believed us - or at least she let us think she did. Then when we had grandchildren it was always fun to play jokes on them.
Wondering how this all began I did a little research. Here is what I found out – practically nothing! Actually why or when the 1st day of April was designated remains a mystery, although historians provide ‘feasible’ explanations. I can tell you that there are clues in French history.
At least here is someone to blame if you have a joke pulled on you – Pope Gregory X111 and the Julian calendar. On this calendar, the 1st day of the year began around March 25th. France adopted the new Gregorian calendar in 1582 which made the new year day January 1st.
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Monday, February 27, 2012
Ageless Quotes
by Lois Jamieson
I found these wonderful quotes in a little book called “Old Age Ain’t No Place For Sissies”.
I think Mark Twain had it just about right when he said:
“Life would be infinitely happier if only we could be born at the age of 80 and gradually approach 18.”
“If wrinkles must be written upon our brows, let them not be written upon the heart.
The spirit should never grow old.” -James A. Garfield
“Outwardly I am 83, but inwardly I am every age, with the emotions and experience of
each period.” - Elizabeth Coatsworth
“The great comfort of turning 49 is the realization that you are now too old to die young.” -Paul Dickson
“Middle age: when you begin to exchange your emotions for symptoms.” –Irvin Cobb
“Retirement must be wonderful. I mean, you can suck in your stomach for only so long.”
-Burt Reynolds
“Women are just beginning at forty. At fifty, you hit your power.” –Lauren Hutton
“The man who views the world at 50 the same as he did at 20 has wasted 30 years of his life.” -Muhammad Ali
Phoebe and I hope you have enjoyed these quotes. Watch for more next week. Have a great day. -Lois
I found these wonderful quotes in a little book called “Old Age Ain’t No Place For Sissies”.
I think Mark Twain had it just about right when he said:
“Life would be infinitely happier if only we could be born at the age of 80 and gradually approach 18.”
“If wrinkles must be written upon our brows, let them not be written upon the heart.
The spirit should never grow old.” -James A. Garfield
“Outwardly I am 83, but inwardly I am every age, with the emotions and experience of
each period.” - Elizabeth Coatsworth
“The great comfort of turning 49 is the realization that you are now too old to die young.” -Paul Dickson
“Middle age: when you begin to exchange your emotions for symptoms.” –Irvin Cobb
“Retirement must be wonderful. I mean, you can suck in your stomach for only so long.”
-Burt Reynolds
“Women are just beginning at forty. At fifty, you hit your power.” –Lauren Hutton
“The man who views the world at 50 the same as he did at 20 has wasted 30 years of his life.” -Muhammad Ali
Phoebe and I hope you have enjoyed these quotes. Watch for more next week. Have a great day. -Lois
Monday, January 30, 2012
Words of Wisdom
Lois Jamieson
I Hope you have fun with these “words”. I found them in the Farmers’ Almanac, 1975.
There is nobody so irritating as somebody with less intelligence and more sense than we have.
A class reunion is when everyone gets together to see who is falling apart.
Congress does some strange things – it puts a high tax on liquor and then raises other taxes that drive people to drink.
You’ve reached middle-age when all you exercise is caution.
Humility is a strange thing, the minute you think you’ve got it you’ve lost it.
By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong.
The older a person is, the noisier the youngsters are.
Old girdles never die. They just lose their snap.
It’s nice to have four years between elections. It takes people that long to regain their faith.
Love is like eating mushrooms. You’re never sure it’s the real thing until it’s too late.
Keep laughing….it’s good for you! Lois
I Hope you have fun with these “words”. I found them in the Farmers’ Almanac, 1975.
There is nobody so irritating as somebody with less intelligence and more sense than we have.
A class reunion is when everyone gets together to see who is falling apart.
Congress does some strange things – it puts a high tax on liquor and then raises other taxes that drive people to drink.
You’ve reached middle-age when all you exercise is caution.
Humility is a strange thing, the minute you think you’ve got it you’ve lost it.
By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong.
The older a person is, the noisier the youngsters are.
Old girdles never die. They just lose their snap.
It’s nice to have four years between elections. It takes people that long to regain their faith.
Love is like eating mushrooms. You’re never sure it’s the real thing until it’s too late.
Keep laughing….it’s good for you! Lois
Saturday, September 10, 2011
More Weird Stuff in the News
by Lois Jamieson
Arizona
It must be a lot of fun to be an Arizona State University student, where those 21 and older can earn $60 a night by getting drunk. Studies are being conducted on drunk students’ memories, response times and decision-making processes through extensive questioning. Students are served one type of vodka cocktail, three drinks’ worth, in a bar-like room on campus. (At the end of the night, taxis are called for the students.)
Radnor, Pennsylvania
Two young men were arrested after they had broken into a police van for the purpose of taking gag photos of themselves as if they were under arrest. However, the men somehow locked themselves inside the van, and neither they, nor a friend they called, could figure out how to open the doors. Finally they were forced to call 911. Police arrive, unlocked the van, arrested the men, and locked them back up. This time inside a cell. Talk about your dumb criminals.
Arizona
It must be a lot of fun to be an Arizona State University student, where those 21 and older can earn $60 a night by getting drunk. Studies are being conducted on drunk students’ memories, response times and decision-making processes through extensive questioning. Students are served one type of vodka cocktail, three drinks’ worth, in a bar-like room on campus. (At the end of the night, taxis are called for the students.)
Radnor, Pennsylvania
Two young men were arrested after they had broken into a police van for the purpose of taking gag photos of themselves as if they were under arrest. However, the men somehow locked themselves inside the van, and neither they, nor a friend they called, could figure out how to open the doors. Finally they were forced to call 911. Police arrive, unlocked the van, arrested the men, and locked them back up. This time inside a cell. Talk about your dumb criminals.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
The Vacation That Wasn't
By Phoebe Maurer
Imagine packing clothing and supplies for three children for a one week vacation at a hotel in the Catskill Mountains. We herded our pack into the car and off we went, singing, chatting, and quibbling in the back seat.
Our spirits were high as we drove through the scenic beauty of New York State. When we arrived at the lovely resort we were shown to a cottage that was simple and adequate. The first day was fun and games.
The second day began with our middle child Gale waking with a fever and a sore throat. By the end of the third day, the two boys joined their sister with high grade temps, sore tummies and throats. The good doctor whom we had called came with medication and soothing words for the poor beleaguered parents. We had a conference that night. That is, Mom and Dad did, and decided that eating in a crowded cabin was no fun and staying inside was a bleak idea.
So we packed the next morning, loaded the car, and headed home for the end of our un-vacation.
Imagine packing clothing and supplies for three children for a one week vacation at a hotel in the Catskill Mountains. We herded our pack into the car and off we went, singing, chatting, and quibbling in the back seat.
Our spirits were high as we drove through the scenic beauty of New York State. When we arrived at the lovely resort we were shown to a cottage that was simple and adequate. The first day was fun and games.
The second day began with our middle child Gale waking with a fever and a sore throat. By the end of the third day, the two boys joined their sister with high grade temps, sore tummies and throats. The good doctor whom we had called came with medication and soothing words for the poor beleaguered parents. We had a conference that night. That is, Mom and Dad did, and decided that eating in a crowded cabin was no fun and staying inside was a bleak idea.
So we packed the next morning, loaded the car, and headed home for the end of our un-vacation.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Ladies Day
By Lois Jamieson
My husband and I just returned from a beach vacation in Southern California. I read the local paper every day, not that it was a great newspaper, looking for interesting articles to share with you. I hit a gold mine!
I read that the Del Mar Thoroughbred Club, at the Del Mar Race Track, had scratched “Ladies Day” from the event card. Well, they didn’t really ‘scratch’ the name, they just added to it. It seems that the National Coalition For Men complained that a Ladies Day violates the law regarding equal treatment of the sexes. They complained that this was discrimination against men and they found it offensive.
So now it is called “Ladies Day (and Gentlemen).” Let the race begin.
Now don’t get me wrong. I love men. I have always enjoyed being around them. But this struck me as being a big fuss over nothing. In my own life, I have witnessed many discriminating circumstances against women. At the country club we almost joined there was a Men’s Day and was on a choice day of the week, while the Women’s Day was second choice and God forbid if, on any day, women got to tee off before men. And then there is the “Men’s Grille” found at most clubs. I have never seen a Lady’s Grille at any club.
On the other hand, I remember when my husband’s fraternal club, by law, had to include women. The problem arose when the women who joined were aggressive types. They soon worked their way into leadership positions. In one year the club’s membership was falling.
So I say, let the gentlemen have some time together to just be guys. And let the ladies have their day to spend time with the gals
My husband and I just returned from a beach vacation in Southern California. I read the local paper every day, not that it was a great newspaper, looking for interesting articles to share with you. I hit a gold mine!
I read that the Del Mar Thoroughbred Club, at the Del Mar Race Track, had scratched “Ladies Day” from the event card. Well, they didn’t really ‘scratch’ the name, they just added to it. It seems that the National Coalition For Men complained that a Ladies Day violates the law regarding equal treatment of the sexes. They complained that this was discrimination against men and they found it offensive.
So now it is called “Ladies Day (and Gentlemen).” Let the race begin.
Now don’t get me wrong. I love men. I have always enjoyed being around them. But this struck me as being a big fuss over nothing. In my own life, I have witnessed many discriminating circumstances against women. At the country club we almost joined there was a Men’s Day and was on a choice day of the week, while the Women’s Day was second choice and God forbid if, on any day, women got to tee off before men. And then there is the “Men’s Grille” found at most clubs. I have never seen a Lady’s Grille at any club.
On the other hand, I remember when my husband’s fraternal club, by law, had to include women. The problem arose when the women who joined were aggressive types. They soon worked their way into leadership positions. In one year the club’s membership was falling.
So I say, let the gentlemen have some time together to just be guys. And let the ladies have their day to spend time with the gals
Sunday, August 14, 2011
The Green Thing
by Lois Jamieson-from an e-mail
In the line at the store, the cashier told an older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren’t good for the environment.The woman apologized to him and explained, “We didn’t have the green thing back in my day.”The clerk responded, “That’s our problem today, your generation did not care enough to save our environment.” (If I had been there, by this time I probably would have banged the guy over the head with my purse.)
She was right our generation didn’t have the green thing in our day
Back then......
We returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled.
We walked up stairs, because we didn’t have an escalator in every store and office building.
We walked to the grocery store and didn’t climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks.
Back then, we washed the baby’s diapers because we didn’t have the throw away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 220 volts – wind and solar power really did dry the clothes.
When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used a wadded up old newspaper to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap.
We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water.
Yes, we didn’t have the green thing back then.
In the line at the store, the cashier told an older woman that she should bring her own grocery bags because plastic bags weren’t good for the environment.The woman apologized to him and explained, “We didn’t have the green thing back in my day.”The clerk responded, “That’s our problem today, your generation did not care enough to save our environment.” (If I had been there, by this time I probably would have banged the guy over the head with my purse.)
She was right our generation didn’t have the green thing in our day
Back then......
We returned milk bottles, soda bottles and beer bottles to the store. The store sent them back to the plant to be washed and sterilized and refilled, so it could use the same bottles over and over. So they really were recycled.
We walked up stairs, because we didn’t have an escalator in every store and office building.
We walked to the grocery store and didn’t climb into a 300-horsepower machine every time we had to go two blocks.
Back then, we washed the baby’s diapers because we didn’t have the throw away kind. We dried clothes on a line, not in an energy gobbling machine burning up 220 volts – wind and solar power really did dry the clothes.
When we packaged a fragile item to send in the mail, we used a wadded up old newspaper to cushion it, not Styrofoam or plastic bubble wrap.
We drank from a fountain when we were thirsty instead of using a cup or a plastic bottle every time we had a drink of water.
Yes, we didn’t have the green thing back then.
Monday, May 23, 2011
GETTING IN SHAPE
By Lois Jamieson
I just found out that May is National Fitness Month. I had to laugh as I thought of my efforts over the years trying to ‘Get in Shape’. For as long as I can remember I have had the image of myself as being a very athletic and agile woman. I just knew I could run faster than the wind, get the ball in the hoop every time, play par golf and win tennis matches. Somehow or other, I have never achieved that level of athleticism. My high school record was not exactly stellar. I played basketball so long ago it was when girls could only play half court. I was a guard and fearless, but I never had the chance to throw for the basket I knew I could make.
In my thirties I remember entering a swimming race at a local pool. I confess I talked one of my girlfriends into entering the race knowing I could beat her. There were only three contestants and I felt confident that I would win the race. That is, until the third lady walked up to the pool wearing a a racing swimsuit and a Speedo cap. Well, I did come in second. In my forties I took up golf and I don’t even want to discuss that, although I continued looking for a four hole group until late into my seventies. I rode my bike a bit in my fifties until I fell off and I still have a scar on my ankle to prove it. I was in my early seventies when I came to the realization that it was now or never. I simply had to get in shape. If my bank account had expanded as much as my waistline I’d be buying my clothes at Neiman Marcus.
So, I joined a fitness club.
I stepped through the door into a weird world of monstrous metal levers and pulleys, sweating bodies, ear splitting music, grunts, groans and grimaces. I turned and fled. About half way home I gathered up my courage andwent back. After signing up for a guest day I was weighed, measured and recorded. It was then I knew I needed to be there. I was taken to the workout room where everyone seemed to be twenty years old with l9” waists, 36” busts and the whitest teeth I’d ever seen. I didn’t have much time to dwell on that before being strappd to a disagreeable looking pullover machine and instructed in the art of lifting 80 pounds while lying on my back.
After exhausting myself on the machines, I decided a good swim would top off my experience. With that in mind I limped into the dressing room where lockers are provided. I was told “it’s best to keep things under lock and key.” I must confess I didn’t lock mine. I’m not good with locks and keys and thing like that. I had this horrifying picture of me. There I was soaking wet, draped in a towel standing in front of my locker, locked out. My clothes, purse, car keys and the combination to the lock were locked in. Luckily I found a dark corner to squeeze into my size 16 red bathing suit. I then made a mad dash to the pool. Once there, I bravely pushed off with my famous side stroke. Despite bumping into an indignant gentleman and losing an earring, I managed a lap and a half. After slipping back into my somewhat ripe sweat pants and shirt, I managed to sign my name to a contract, hand over my credit card and make it to my car before collapsing behind the wheel.
My enthusiasm returned by evening, however, and I said to my husband as I took the last bite of my double chocolate marshmallow sundae, “I just know I’m really going to get in shape this time”.
Monday, April 25, 2011
DO I REALLY NEED TO KNOW
By Lois
I ask myself this question. -- Do I really need to know about Facebook, Twitter, I-Pods, I-Phones, I-Pads and all the rest?
I may as well admit it….I’m on Facebook! Well, sort of. Here’s how it happened. My dear 29 year old grandson forced me into it by sending me some promised pictures….on FaceBook. The only way I could see the pictures was to join the dreaded FaceBook.
So, that’s what I did, and here is what happened.
First, I had to enter a password. So, I did that. Let me stop right here and give you a little advice about passwords. Pick one you can easily remember and use it on everything you need a password for.You’ve guessed it, after entering my FaceBook password, I neglected to record it along with my passwords for my computer, my e-mail, my home alarm and myriad other things.
But I digress. The next thing I knew I had 20 FaceBook friends, or that is what my e-mail was telling me. Mostly, they were people I like. I felt rather proud about that, but unfortunately I couldn’t answer them because I FORGOT MY PASSWORD.
Well, the messages kept piling up along with admonishments from FaceBook that I was ignoring my friends. Each time this happened I would try another password, but could never come up with the right one. Then a line would appear that I grew to hate - it said, “Forgot your password? Here’s a new one. All you have to do is type in this combination of words and you will be given a new password.”
"Okay," I said to myself, this should be easy. I scrolled down the page and there were something like 28 screwy words that looked something like this - MWLFTY except they weren’t in a straight line and were crazy looking.For three weeks every day I found myself screaming at my computer, “GIVE ME THE DAMN PASSWORD!”
Did you know there is no-one there? I always thought there was a Facebook central office or something equally sensible.
WRONG!
Now I just ignore it and all the new and old “friends” who, incidentally, have grown from 20 to 79. I’ll just have to wait until my grandson, who lives in the state of Washington and I am in Arizona, comes to see me at Christmas time.
P.S. I finally remembered my password and even receive written messages on my wall. I’ve also become a blogger - but no TWEETING. Here is the link to my other blog: Kids Without Stuff
I GUESS I DID NEED TO KNOW!
I ask myself this question. -- Do I really need to know about Facebook, Twitter, I-Pods, I-Phones, I-Pads and all the rest?
I may as well admit it….I’m on Facebook! Well, sort of. Here’s how it happened. My dear 29 year old grandson forced me into it by sending me some promised pictures….on FaceBook. The only way I could see the pictures was to join the dreaded FaceBook.
So, that’s what I did, and here is what happened.
First, I had to enter a password. So, I did that. Let me stop right here and give you a little advice about passwords. Pick one you can easily remember and use it on everything you need a password for.You’ve guessed it, after entering my FaceBook password, I neglected to record it along with my passwords for my computer, my e-mail, my home alarm and myriad other things.
But I digress. The next thing I knew I had 20 FaceBook friends, or that is what my e-mail was telling me. Mostly, they were people I like. I felt rather proud about that, but unfortunately I couldn’t answer them because I FORGOT MY PASSWORD.
Well, the messages kept piling up along with admonishments from FaceBook that I was ignoring my friends. Each time this happened I would try another password, but could never come up with the right one. Then a line would appear that I grew to hate - it said, “Forgot your password? Here’s a new one. All you have to do is type in this combination of words and you will be given a new password.”
"Okay," I said to myself, this should be easy. I scrolled down the page and there were something like 28 screwy words that looked something like this - MWLFTY except they weren’t in a straight line and were crazy looking.For three weeks every day I found myself screaming at my computer, “GIVE ME THE DAMN PASSWORD!”
Did you know there is no-one there? I always thought there was a Facebook central office or something equally sensible.
WRONG!
Now I just ignore it and all the new and old “friends” who, incidentally, have grown from 20 to 79. I’ll just have to wait until my grandson, who lives in the state of Washington and I am in Arizona, comes to see me at Christmas time.
P.S. I finally remembered my password and even receive written messages on my wall. I’ve also become a blogger - but no TWEETING. Here is the link to my other blog: Kids Without Stuff
I GUESS I DID NEED TO KNOW!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
AGELESS AT 88?
By Phoebe
Ageless at 88? Yes and no. Does it sound ambiguous?
The mind is an endless source of ideas for the future, youthful and creative. However, my body is another story – Oy!
The joints from head to toe are corroded, rusty, squeaky, on fire and betray my youthful
spirit. Just the perils of growing older, not old, but older.
How does an elderly lady of eighty eight and a half escape the turmoil my body creates?
I write short stories, poetry and a novel. I delve into the worldly wisdom that has accumulated from an interesting life. My beloved husband of almost sixty seven years is my cheerleader, nudging me on to new heights. That is, if I can find the four inches I lost during the journey. Now that I am five feet three inches my feet rebel against wearing fancy high heels. So I trudge up the hill in sneakers or sensible oxfords, hurting each step of the way. Do I cry? No, I laugh at the humorous sight in the mirror.
Can any of you on the internet relate to the picture I have painted in words?
Please tell me your stories.
Lois writes
You might be interested in how I receive Phoebe’s posts. They come to me, handwritten, in the mail. I’m not kidding. Phoebe does not write on a computer. She can’t send them via e-mail or as an attachment. We rely on the U.S. Postal Service to get them from her to me.
Guess what
It works! Phoebe is such a wonderful writer. I don’t care how she manages to get her stories to my computer.
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