Sunday, October 17, 2010

By Cindy R. Williams

My sister, Vicky, sent me these. We are not sure where they all came from, but they are a lot of fun. A "paraprosdokian" is a figure of speech in which the latter part of a sentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected in a way that causes the reader or listener to reframe or reinterpret the first part. (Note: the two groups of text below have both similar and dissimilar lines.)

How about these?

1. I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn't work that way. So I stole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

2. Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience.

3. I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandfather, not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.

4. Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in a garage makes you a car.

5. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on the list.

6. Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

7. If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong.

8. We never really grow up; we only learn how to act in public.

9. War does not determine who is right - only who is left.

10. Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

11. Evening news is where they begin with 'Good evening' and then proceed to tell you why it isn't.

12. To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism. To steal from many is research.

13. A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a train stops. On my desk, I have a work station.

14. How is it one careless match can start a forest fire, but it takes a whole box to start a campfire?

15. Some people are like Slinkies ... not really good for anything, but you can't help smiling when you see one tumble down the stairs.

16. Dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they can train people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish.

17. I didn't say it was your fault; I said I was blaming you.

18. Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billion stars but check when you say the paint is wet?

19. Why do Americans choose from just two people to run for president and 50 for Miss America ?

20. Behind every successful man is his woman. Behind the fall of a successful man is usually another woman.

21. You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute to skydive twice.

22. The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas! (This is my personal favorite and I plan to use it often!)

23. Always borrow money from a pessimist. He won't expect it back.

24. Hospitality: making your guests feel like they're at home, even if you wish they were.

25. Money can't buy happiness, but it sure makes misery easier to live with.

26. Some cause happiness wherever they go. Others whenever they go.

27. I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not sure.

28. When tempted to fight fire with fire, remember that the Fire Department usually uses water.

29. You're never too old to learn something stupid.

30. To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever you hit the target. .

31. Some people hear voices. Some see invisible people. Others have no imagination whatsoever.

32. A bus is a vehicle that runs twice as fast when you are after it as when you are in it.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Female Teacher's Contract - Utah 1923

by Cindy R. Williams

In 1922 my grandmother, Alice Rupp Sample, was a school teacher in Utah. Her career lasted all of one year because she got married the next year, and believe it or not, married women were not allowed to be teachers according to the Female Teacher's Contract which came into effect in 1923. My dear mother, Verlayne Sample Richardson, found the contract a few weeks ago and gave me a copy.

Here are the 12 rules:

1. Teacher is not to get married. This contract becomes null and void if the teacher marries.
2. Teacher is not to keep the company of men.
3. Teacher must be home between the hours of 8:00 PM and 6:00 AM unless in attendance at a school function.
4. Teacher must not loiter downtown in ice cream parlors.
5. Teacher may not leave town at any time without permission of the Chairman of the Board of Trustees.
6. Teacher is not to smoke cigarettes or drink wine, beer or whisky. This contract becomes null and void if teacher is caught smoking, or drinking wine, beer or whiskey.
7. Teacher may not ride in a carriage with any man except her brother or father.
8. Teacher is not to dress in bright colors.
9. Teacher may not dye her hair.
10. Teacher will not wear dresses more than two inches above the ankle.
11. Teacher is to wear at least two petticoats.
12. Teacher is to bring a bucket to school to clean and scrub the building every week.

My, my, my, I wonder what bloggers or "light year word writers" "space word floaters" or cyber writers" whatever they will be doing or called in 2110, a hundred years from now, will think about the rules for female teacher of our time.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Preview of My Someday Grandchild's Name

We visited Grandma Sunday, and my ten year old was listening in as we discussed the names my daughter and her hubby have chosen for my first ever grand baby --a boy!  In a short lull in the conversation, my cute ten year old popped in with the name he wants for his own son someday. Wait for it . . .
 "Dude". "Dude, I asked wondering if I heard correctly. "Yeah, Mom, spelled D-O-O-D."  Kids, aren't they wonderful!

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Crazy Posts Wanted!

CRAZY LADIES out there. I am looking for your crazy posts. Leave a comment and let me know if you have a crazy story or post you would like to share. I know you are out there. I see you everyday!

Monday, April 19, 2010

Crazy Ramblings to Get Ready For a Writer's Conference

By Cindy R. Williams

I'm stressing and obsessing about my trip from Phoenix to Provo, Utah, for the upcoming LDStorymakers conference. Anywhere I go I tend to bring tons of stuff with me and have to set up house. At Church, my bag is heavy enough that I lean to the side and walk with a limp, almost Quasimoto style. When I attend a writing class I arrive at least five minutes before the other students to set up my space. When I play chauffer for my kids, I can't seem to just slip on my shoes, grab my purse and keys and off we go. No, I always forget something and have to run back into the house several times. As I write this I'm beginning to see that maybe I have a Hoarder and/or Over Planner Syndrome. Maybe I've taken "Be Prepared" too seriously. Those of you who know me well, I see you nodding your heads. STOP IT!

So back to the upcoming trip to the writers conference. Here's my simplified plan, and I really mean simplified.

1. Make arrangements for my children, and husband to survive. Make sure there's plenty for them to eat and clean clothes to wear while I'm away. Maybe I'll make a list of things they could get done if they really wanted to while I am gone. Maybe not. I can paint the scenario that although I'll be the one partying and swinging on the Marriott's chandeliers, they too will want to party and have a mini-vacation from "Sergeant Nag."

2. Leave the house spick and span. Ummm . . . a mute point since the house is likely to be in major disarray when I get home anyway. Sigh.

3. Make sure all is ready for Primary, since my flight won't get me back in time. As a humble and tired President, I miss and worry about my favorite little people. Get my Visiting Teaching done so I won't harbor a ton of guilt. I already harbor a semi-truck load of guilt about far too many things.

4. Pack: This means I must bother to shop for a few new things to wear, and I detest shopping. I would rather be home writing any day. But, alas, my fashionable "Mommy Look" consisting of sweats and t-shirts isn't going to cut it. I want to dress at least business casual. I'll actually settle for presentable. Should I take two pairs of slippers just in case the hotel toilet clogs and floods soaking my sllippers. Hey, it's happened before, and I want to be ready and prepared.

5. Remember to bring my cell phone charger. Even though I hate cell phones, I want to call my family. Plus one of them might break a leg or some other appendage while I'm gone, and need my comfort. If you know my family, you know that this isn't much of a stretch for my dare devil offsrping. A few quick examples: one son broke both arms on the same day, but at two different times while snowboarding. My missionary son torqued his finger almost off when trying to jump over another friend while being pulled behind our boat on tubes. Several pins and a zillion stitches later, they saved the finger. Then he broke his collar bone two months before his mission while standing on a garbage can lid and sliding down a snowy hill, in Utah. Since that wasn't enough excitement before his mission, he broke his foot five days to departure to the MTC while playing Church basketball. Truth is better than fiction. No, never mind. Truth is much worse than fiction. So good luck to my sweet husband while I'm gone.

6. Plan and pack and re-pack all my stuff. Then do it again. I'm not like my husband and sons who can come home from work or school on Friday and within five minutes are packed and out the door for a Scout Camp.

7. Arrange to have a friend bring up a case of my "Chase McKay Didn't Get Up Today" books. I donated one for the gift baskets being given away at the conference, and one for AI (Authors Incognito) to give as prizes. I also want to have them on hand for interested parties to purchase, and hope that there will be many interested parties. Maybe I should make a battery operated hat with the book spinning around like a helicopter blade on the top and flashing blue, red and green lights and include canned laughter that sounds off every ten seconds or so to draw attention from hundreds of other authors that most likely have their own books to sell.

8. Pack my cell phone charger and "Bubbles," my super cuddly stuffed whale, that serves as one of my snuggly pillows.

9. Polish and print five pages of my novel and practice, practice, practice my pitch to use when I meet with Lisa Mangum of Deseret Book/Shadow Mountain. Psych myself up that my book is so fabulous that she will jump up, slam her fist on the table and say. "We have to have your book!" I can dream can't I?

10. Polish and print ten copies of the first chapter of . . . wait, first I have to decide which novel or children's story I want to use for the Critique Boot Camp. This will take tons of thought. I mean, "Eleven" is 1/3 complete, but very rough. "Thundertail's Tales" is complete, but has been through several edits and rewrites and is the hands of Beta Readers, so now I'm back to the possibility that it might be better to beat up on "Eleven." "Welcome to the Motherhood" is full of essays on mothering, and I don't think I want to choose just one essay to hash. Then there are the seven children's picture books, some rhyming, some not, in various stages of writing and editing. However, I think it would be wasted time to use those. I have other critique groups helping there. Maybe I will bring the beginnings of my non-fiction book about my Dad and Alzheimer's --or ---never mind, my head is swimming. I'll decide tomorrow.

11. Print a copy of my query letter for my query class so I can query my presenter with queries that will help me write a killer query and reach my goal of impressing my dream agent with my query of all queries.

12. Make table place cards reserving four tables for lunch on Friday for ANWA Members. Liz Adair is making ANWA badges for us to wear, and it will be great fun to sit together for one lunch. I already emailed Jamie Thayler of LDStorymakers and got her okay. No matter how much I tend to tangle and convilute things,this one is easy.

13. Review the conference schedule and map out my daily plan of classes to attend. I'm really not much of a fly by the seat of your pants person. Back in high school I've been known to do things on the spur of the moment, like grabbing hold of car bumpers and foot skiing on the snow, or throwing a snowball at the principal, or staying up on a dare all night watching "Nightmare" dressed as a zombie. Once I walked a fourty foor long fence made out of nothing but metal 2 inch diameter poles that surrounded a very awnery and dangerous bull --again on a dare --but not anymore. I've become quite a stick in the muck, --notice I'm avoiding a common cliche by giving it a new object. I like to be organized and know where I'm going and why. It just saves time, is more efficient and makes total sense, borring as an old housecoat, but effective.

14. Pack my cell phone charger, Bubbles and chocolate. How could I think of going to a writer's conference without chocolate?

Okay, now I feel my list is complete. I have considered each day carefully. I have thought and brainstormed about all my family's needs while I'm away. I have considered my Church responsibities. I've picked this apart, worried this thing to death and can go to the LDStorymakers Conference with peace of mind that I remembered everything, or did I?

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Crazy Lady With Short in Her Brain

Life has been way crazy so it's been a while since I posted. This story below really happened so I just had to post it in Crazy Ladies Blog Here. Read this and see if you would call someone crazy.

Crazy Lady with short in her brain: "I need this project done by my birthday."

Normal Crazy Lady: "When is your birthday."

Crazy Lady with short in her brain: "Sometime in March."

Normal Crazy Lady: "Can you be more specific? What is the day?"

Crazy Lady with short in her brain: "How do I know what day it is?"

Normal Crazy Lady: "Hmmm . . . well it's the same day each year, that is the same number each year."

Crazy Lady with short in her brain getting impatient: "Can you get it done?"

Normal Crazy Lady, realizing there truly is a disconnect: "I can have it done March 1st."

Crazy Lady with short in her brain: "That won't be soon enough. I need it before May."

Normal Crazy Lady realizing there may be bats in the belfry: "March 1st comes before May."

Crazy lady with short in her brain: "Oh, well I can use my discretion here, why don't you get it done in July."

Normal Crazy Lady: "Okay, July it is."

Crazy Lady with short in her brain: "Now, why didn't you agree to this all along."

Normal Crazy Lady clamps her mouth shut tight thinking, let it go, just let it go, then lets out a big sigh of relief when the Crazy Lady with the short in her brain is gone.
I heard a comedian the other day, I think it was Jeff Foxworthy say . . . "They walk among us."