Cindy's Brain Joins the Circus

By Cindy Beck



Why is it that when I open a blog composition box, my brain runs away and joins the circus?

Really, it's not that hard to write a blog, is it? Nowadays, almost everyone does it ... including Bo-Bo, the Chimp. I'm proud to say that even my seventy-three-year-old mother, who's definitely smarter than Bo-Bo, writes a blog.

Wait. Look at that last sentence. Is "seventy-three-year-old" really supposed to have that many hyphens? It looks like someone took a knife and stabbed it in multiple places.

I'm thinking it's questions like "What hyphens go where?" that cause my knees to shake and my insides to feel like they're filled with live gummy worms when writing something for the Internet. After all, what if I hyphenate something wrong? Or my spellcheck runs a mock and lets all kinds of pore lee spelled words through?

For many years, I chugged along in ignorant bliss believing that if I made errors on a web page and posted it, I could delete the page seconds later. Poof ... with one keystroke, all my grammar sins would be forgiven.

But, nope.

Some time ago, in a heart wrenching moment of discovery, I learned that in a galaxy far, far away there is actually an archive that's been keeping track of posted web pages—you know, the www.SomethingOrOther.com type pages—since the Dark Ages of 1996.

Alas and alack, yes.

I'd list the address of the archives, in case there are some who want to check the accuracy of my facts, but I intend to delete this entry right after I post it, in case it contains errors and is being archived.

Besides that, I can't remember the address. Along with being a talented, fat-fingered typist who can fool spellcheck with sound-alike words (also known as homophones), I have a memory that's like cheesecloth tied in a knot. Or not. See? Another homophone.

It's lucky for me that I have such a sieved memory, because otherwise I'd be out there moaning over my misspelled words, poorly placed images, and text that looks like it was written in China.

Still, despite the dangers of making a bloggy mistake that makes me look like I'm related to Bo-Bo the Chimp, I'm here today, posting more words to grieve over in the future.

Why? Because after a vast amount of research (ten seconds just now on the 'Net), I'm thinking the robots that do the archiving can't access this blog. I'm not sure what that means for Bo-Bo the Chimp, but for me it means I'm safe as long as I'm here.

And that makes me feel a lot better. Therefore ... let the miss steaks beguine and the chips fall wear they Mae!

(Author's note: This blog entry was all in fun, but the archives are real and if you're interested in accessing them, you can find them here: http://www.archive.org/web/web.php

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Winner of last week's contest:


The winner of the book, "The Sunflower Club" is Shirley Bahlmann! Wahoo, Shirley, way to go!

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What's playing in my head: Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite, by the Beatles.

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The Plant Killer, "Sunflower Club" & a Contest

By Cindy Beck
© 2009




The Plant Killer

I should have known better than to plant several small sumac in the yard, because I live with ... (menacing organ music) ... the Plant Killer! Otherwise known by its scientific name as F. Russell Beck.

It seems like only yesterday, in the crowning achievement of my life, that I actually grew a softball-sized watermelon in my garden. That is, until my husband came along with the Mega-Tiller of Death and ran the melon over, splitting it in half like a ... well, like a ripe watermelon ... and leaving it to die in the hot sun. (Click here to read about it in "The Parable of the Watermelon.")

Russ claims it was an accident. Knowing him, I'm sure that's true. He would never intentionally do something like that. However, his subconscious must lie awake at night, planning the demise of my yard and garden. Otherwise, how could it be that a man who can walk a straight line with his eyes closed, mows in a zigzag that takes out every plant on the entire block?

Well, okay maybe not the entire block, but only because we have a big vinyl fence that goes around the yard. If not for that, he'd mow right past the property line and over the neighbor's eight-foot plum tree. If the neighbors are wise, they'll put their above ground swimming pool on the other side of their yard next year, because I've seen Russ and his wild mower crash into our vinyl fence several times this summer.

On Sunday, I walked out to look at my lovely little sumac grove. The lawn chairs, chicken wire, and old satellite dish that I'd placed around them as protection had been for knot. Yup, my cleverly designed protective devices were heaped off to the side in a tangled knot.

Using my excellent sleuthing abilities, I recognized the tracks that circled around the yard and serpentined back to the sumac. Lawnmower!

I hurried over to my grove, knelt on the ground and ran my hand over the closely clipped grass. Nubbins were all that remained of my little trees. The heart-rending cry that followed caused passersby to cover their hearts in sympathy. Who knew Russ could cry that loud?

I'm continuing to water, fertilize, and pray over the murdered sumac, in hopes they'll come back from the roots. I'm so desperate that I might even try a voodoo spell. The kind that involves sharp pins and a little doll made in Russ's image.

In the meantime, I've devised a plan. One that will work far better than piling junk around my plants to protect them. The next time the Plant Killer's subconscious starts plotting to mow over my trees, I'm going to pull his plug.

What? No, not that plug. His lawnmower's plug.

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Last week's contest winner: Only one person guessed correctly that statement #4, "My favorite position to play in softball is outfield" was false.

My favorite position was not outfielder, but CATCHER!

Rachelle Christensen wins one of the two prizes, a mini first aid kit. And since that still leaves another first aid kit, I've put the remaining names into the random generator, and it pulled Ronda Hinrichsen.

Congratulations to you both. I already have Rachelle's address, but Ronda, would you please email me yours? Thanks!

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"The Sunflower Club" and a Contest

In conjunction with my planting tale of woe, I'd like to mention a book that I recently received from Gretchen Holland, while at the LDS Bookseller's Convention a couple of weeks ago. Gretchen wrote a cute book for children called, "The Sunflower Club."




Here's the blurb from the back of the book:

Jenny and Jacob look forward to summer vacation every year, but this summer will be different. As the twins prepare to turn eight and be baptized, their Grandfather introduces them to a club. They begin to understand that they can join the club too, IF they learn some important lessons. As small sunflower seeds arrive in the mail, Jenny and Jacob's special adventure begins. With the help of their Mom and Dad, their older brother Alex, and, of course Grandpa, this summer will teach them important lessons about faith, trust, love, work, and sharing their feelings with others as they get ready to join "The Sunflower Club."

Gretchen was so sweet and gave me an autographed copy of the book to use as a prize in a contest.

So ... here's how to enter to win:

1. For one entry, leave a comment on this blog post.

2. For two entries, leave a comment here telling me you plan to leave a second comment about the contest, along with the link to my blog, out at Facebook. And then remember to actually go out and post that at FB. (You're on the honor system here.)

I'll pull a winner at random, next Monday. Good luck!

(And thanks to Gretchen, for donating the book. You can purchase Gretchen's book at Amazon.com.)

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I'm a Kreativ Blogger ... by Cindy Beck

A long time ago, and in a land that's somewhere over the rainbow, Oz-Girl nominated me for the Kreativ Blogger award. I was staggered. I was stunned. I left a comment at her site thanking her for it, and it disappeared. I'm guessing a munchkin ate it! (Ooo, I'd better be careful or L. Frank Baum's ghost is going to haunt me for making such accusations.)

Then, in the past couple of weeks, Ali Cross and Nichole Giles nominated me again. I'm staggered. I'm stunned. This time the munchkins better not eat my thanks.

According to the rules of the award, I must tell seven things about me that no one knows. Considering all the games of tag that I've played, it's getting hard to dig up seven unknown truths. Or even semi-truths. So, in keeping with my warped unusual sense of humor, I'm going to give six true facts and one that's a lie made up.

The first two people to comment and correctly guess which one of the seven facts is not accurate wins a mini first aid kit ... great for the car, backpack, gym bag, or desk drawer at work. (Sorry, but family members may not participate in the contest. A a few of them actually know me!)

1. I met my husband, Russ, in high school at a horror movie.
2. My son and his family were once extras in a movie.
3. I learned to play the flute in college.
4. My favorite position to play in softball is outfield.
5. I've visited Canada.
6. My cousin-in-law is from Denmark.
7. My co-authored book of humor, Mormon Mishaps and Mischief, is due out in December.

Thanks again to Oz-Girl, Ali Cross and Nichole Giles for the award. And now, for my nominations ...

Bugs Bunny
Sylvester and Tweety
Pepe Le Pew
Yosemite Sam

(And if Pepe Le Pew responds, would someone please let me know? I want to know how he's going to answer the questions!)

What's playing in my head: Theme Song for the Bugs Bunny Show.

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A Tale of Disorganization ... by Cindy Beck

AND A REVIEW OF, ORGANIZE AS YOU GO, written by Marie Ricks.

© Cindy Beck, 2009

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, disorganization, organization, organizational tips, Organize as You Go, Marie Ricks, humorous writing, LDS humor, humor blog, down home humor, funny, laugh)

I woke up this morning wondering what I'd forgotten to do last night. Try as I might, it alluded me. So, I ran a nice warm bath, added bubbles, and as I did, Corky Porky Pie, the dog, jumped in. No matter, I could just give him a bath.

That's when I remembered he would refuse to cooperate unless his rubber ducky floated in the water. No big deal, I dashed out of the bathroom and to the closet where Quackers resided. Opening the door, a super-sized bottle of shampoo fell off the cluttered shelf and onto my head. No problem, I liked seeing stars. I staggered around, dazed, and tripped over Russ's bowling ball that sat nearby. Grabbing my stubbed toe, I reached for the bowling ball. Too late. It bounced down the stairs and with a crash, fell through the floor. Oh well, I always wanted a second entrance to the basement.

Just then, Corky Porky appeared beside me, dripping wet and munching on a bar of bath soap. The muddy water from his coat spread in an ever widening circle on the white carpet. "No worries," I said with a sigh, "I needed to clean the carpet, anyway."

That's when it dawned on me. If I had read, Organize as You Go, by Marie Ricks—as I'd planned the night before—I could have avoided the whole scenario!

Author's note: Okay, so I made it all up for your amusement. Russ doesn't really own a bowling ball and I don't have a white carpet. But, Corky Porky Pie does own a rubber ducky and he does need a bath! (The dog, not the rubber ducky:)


Review of "Organize as You Go," by author, Marie Ricks




Cover Blurb:
Have time to smell the roses again. Bring greater organization to your busy life! It is often the small, but important changes you make in the way you think, what you do, and how you respond to your daily stresses that makes all the difference in your capacity to have an ordered, more productive life. Are you seeking for answers and wanting to implement major changes? If so, this book is for you. Learn about 50+ organizing as you go personal, family, and home organization principles to change your life for the better, beginning today!

My Opinion:
I'm always game to try new organizational methods, so I really looked forward to reading Marie's book ... and she didn't disappoint me.

Organize as You Go is broken into seven easy-to-read sections, so that once you've read the entire book, you can use it as a quick reference. She gave organizational advice for every day use, holiday use, at home, during travel or moving, as well as suggestions to stay organized for the future. In addition, she mentioned forms to help organize your life that are available at her website.

Since I recently moved into a new home and a few unpacked boxes still sit tucked into corners, I enjoyed her advice on how to get those last few, stubborn boxes unloaded and put away.

What I liked most about the book, however, was that it left me feeling motivated and inspired, with the attitude that organizing my life wasn't as hard as it sometimes seemed. And when it comes to organizing, that's half the battle.

The book would make a wonderful wedding gift, as well as a Christmas gift for those who need a little extra help with their organizational skills. And it makes a great reference book for those who want life to flow a little ... or a lot ... smoother.

To learn more about the Marie Ricks and her other work, click here for Marie's blog.

To purchase a copy of Organize As You Go, click here.


What's playing in my head: Nothing. I've turned off the songs so I can get my ear worms organized in alphabetical order.
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LINKS

LINKS to other fun places

CINDY BECK'S OTHER BLOGS

• LDS Humor: Cindy Beck and Nichole Giles
• Cindy Beck: Meandering Thoughts (serious blog)

CINDY BECK'S WEBSITES

• ByTheBecks: author's website
• ByTheBecks*: online store for greeting cards and gifts

Strike Three ... by Cindy Beck

© Cindy Beck, 2009

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, mom, mother, breast cancer awareness, Southern Maryland Blue Crabs, sew, talents, humorous writing, LDS humor, humor blog, down home humor, funny, laugh)




You’d have to know my mom—she’s a woman of many talents. For one thing, she’s a fantastic organizer. She’s so good that if the Republican National Committee requested it, she could orchestrate the next Presidential Inaugural Ball with both eyes closed and while under general anesthesia.

I don’t bring that up because I plan on having her anesthetized any time soon, but so you’ll understand her abilities.

If you’re ever on a cruise ship and see the two of us, my mom would be the classiest lady on board, while I’d be the cruise-ee wearing one broken flip-flop and old peddle-pushers* from 1963. That’s assuming I could ever manage to scrape together enough dough to go on a cruise.

My mom also sews. In my elementary school years, she created cute little outfits for me which I proceeded to destroy and decimate by climbing trees and sliding down hills on my backside.

One summer, in hopes of helping me learn to run a household someday ("someday" meaning that unknown point in time when presumably I'd marry a boy instead of playing football with him), Mom undertook teaching me to sew. My handiwork turned out great. The shorts could have held a pair of Siamese twins and their Siamese dogs—with a pant leg for each. After that, Mom gave up educating me on the “genteel” arts.

Now that I’ve supplied our mother-daughter history, I want to make it clear that when I say there are three things my mom can not do, I’m not criticizing her but simply stating facts.

Mom can’t whistle. When she tries, it comes out as a puff of air with sing-songy noises.

Having grown up during hard times, Mom never owned a bike, nor learned to ride one. Therefore, as a nine-year-old I taught Mom all the essentials, and then quickly regretted it when she ran my bike into a pole, crunching my front basket. Even when she finally, sorta, maybe got the hang of balancing on a bike, she could never figure out how to stop. She’d just put her feet down to slow the bike from 60mph to 55, and then bail off, leaving the bike to weave down the street and crash into the nearest parked car.

The last thing Mom can’t do is throw a ball. Any ball. Not even a wadded piece of paper into a trash can.

So, when I answered the phone on Friday and Mom said, “Because of my work with Civista Health in promoting breast cancer awareness, there’s a possibility I may throw out the first pitch at the Southern Maryland Blue Crabs [minor league] baseball game in two weeks,” I fell on the floor, laughing. With tears rolling down my face.

Corky Porky Pie, the dog, ambled over to see if I’d had a stroke.

I finally quit with the hysterics and pulled the phone away from the dog, who was carrying it to the backyard to bury it. “They asked you to throw a ball? At a real ball game? While they were at it, why didn't they just ask you to ride a bike around the bases afterwards?”

Mom laughed at that thought as much as I did.

When my husband, Russ, came home a little later, I told him the news. He looked at me incredulously. “Your mom? Throw out the first pitch? We’re talking your mom? With a real ball? While they were at it, why didn’t they just ask her to whistle the national anthem?”

I know some might think I made this up, so let me set the record straight right now. I kid you not.

If Mom is chosen to throw out the first pitch, it will be a day that lives on in infamy for some poor event organizer for the Blue Crabs. Emergency personnel will probably take him off in a straight jacket as he mumbles, “But she was supposed to throw it over home plate, not knock out the lights on the scoreboard!”

With a little luck, there’ll be a webcam at the baseball game. I live halfway across the country and won't be able to be there, but I have to see my mom throwing a pitch. I just hope she doesn’t bean anyone.

And from what Mom tells me, so does she.


* For those who weren’t around in the dark ages, “peddle-pushers” were an early version of capris.


What's playing in my head: Take Me Out to the Ball Game, featuring Harry Caray and the Chicago Cubs fans.
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CONTEST WINNER: Nancy is the winner of the book, Martha's Freedom Train from last week's contest. Nancy, please email your mailing address to me at bumblebeephoto2(at)yahoo(dot)com.

"Martha's Freedom Train" and a CONTEST!

Posted by Cindy Beck

Although I usually post something that relates to humor here, once in a while I’ll do a book review. Today, it’s my privilege to review a charming book of historical fiction, written for children by my good friend, C. LaRene Hall.




FROM THE COVER BLURB OF MARTHA'S FREEDOM TRAIN:
Martha and her parents escape slavery with the help of many conductors for the Underground Railroad—an escape route set up by people of all colors. They finally have a safe place to stay, but Mama has caught pneumonia and is too ill to travel farther. Papa learns about a wagon train of Mormons traveling west, and he takes Martha to meet them. Her heart almost breaks when he sends her west with these strangers. Martha encounters many exciting adventures along the way. They cross rivers, see Indians and buffalo. She helps put out a fire, and after falling asleep beside the trail, they accidentally leave her behind. Once they reach the Salt Lake valley, she still has choices to make, and Martha wonders how her papa will find her.

MY OPINION:
This is a delightful story that’s quick reading, and yet contains enough excitement that it’s hard to put down. It’s well written and the characters capture the imagination. Although it’s intended for those ten and older, I found it fun, even as an adult. I liked the moral of the story, that God loves all children regardless of color, and mentally cheered in the section that disclosed Martha had a burning desire to learn to read.

In addition, children and adults alike will enjoy the cute penciled illustrations that depict slices of Martha’s journey. And I loved the pioneer recipes for journey cakes and prickly pear jelly at the back of the book.

Now, if I could just manage to pick a few prickly pears without getting poked …

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
I thought you might like to know a little about LaRene, so here are a few of her responses to Crazy Eights, a game of tag she participated in earlier this year. If you’d like to read all her answers, click here.

Eight Things C. LaRene Hall Wishes She Could Do:
1. Go along ways away
2. Have more writing time
3. Have more time everyday to do what I want
4. Find someone to publish my next book
5. Travel to new places all the time
6. Have no bills
7. Have enough money to travel
8. Have no weeds in the yard

Eight Shows She Watches:
1. News
2. Perry Mason
3. Murder She Wrote
4. My Three Sons
5. I don’t know what else is on. I don’t start watching anything until after 9 pm
6. This is a hard question and I have no answers.
7. A good movie if there is any on.
8. I don’t watch much TV because I’d rather write or read.


CONTEST:
This is your chance to enter a drawing to win a signed copy of Martha’s Freedom Train! Simply do one of the following:

1.Tell your friends about Martha’s Freedom Train by posting this link on either Facebook or Twitter: http://www.authorhouse.com/Bookstore/ItemDetail.aspx?bookid=55282 , and leave a comment here that you’ve done that … OR …

2.Go to Amazon.com (click here) and leave a quick note about Martha’s Freedom Train in the review or discussion section. Something easy like “This book sounds great!” will work just fine. Then, leave a comment here on my blog that you’ve done that … OR …

3.Mention Martha’s Freedom Train on another blog (as an entry or a comment on your own blog, or a comment on a friend’s blog), along with the link, http://www.authorhouse.com/Bookstore/ItemDetail.aspx?bookid=55282 and then leave a comment here that you’ve done that ... OR …

4.Go to LaRene’s blog at http://www.clhall.blogspot.com, leave a comment such as, “I hope to win a copy of your book at Cindy Beck’s blog,” and then leave a comment here telling me you’ve done that.


The winner will be picked next Monday, by a random generator. Or possibly by my dog, Corky Porky Pie, who isn’t quite as random but can’t read, either, and so is guaranteed to be impartial. The winner’s name will be announced next Monday, here at my blog.

Good luck!

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The Snake Wrangler ... by Cindy Beck

© Cindy Beck, 2009

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, turtle, snake, rattlesnake, wrangler, humorous writing, LDS humor, humor blog, funny, laugh)




A study done many years ago found that a fake turtle placed on the street caused drivers to stop their cars and get out, presumably to either help the turtle cross the street, or to wish it well. However, when a snake was placed on the road, people intentionally aimed for it, drove over it, backed up their cars, and drove over it again.

Can’t say that I blame them.

Normally, I wouldn’t go out of my way to run over a snake, but on the other hand, I wouldn’t invite one to my Bar Mitzvah, either. Mostly, because I’m not Jewish. But also because I’m not a guy. And then there’s the most important reason … snakes give me the whim-whams, and I don't want to be anywhere near them. Even in my car.

Therefore, I can think of no earthly reason why, when we were driving down the road and I saw a snake, that I felt an humanitarian urge to help it.

“Stop! Don’t hit it!” I yelled, causing my husband to slam on the brakes and thereby turning Corky Porky Pie, the dog, into a furry projectile in the back seat—that is, until his doggy harness caught and the impending rebound flung him back into place.

“Don’t hit what?” Russ asked frantically.

“That snake on the road!”

Russ raised his eyebrows. “You wanted me to stop for a snake? You almost had me roll the SUV, and send Corky through the windshield so we wouldn’t squash a ... a … reptile?”

Russ paused and leaned forward, peering through the front windshield. “You know you don’t like snakes. And I don’t even see one on the road.”

Okay, I’ll admit it; it did look like roadkill, so I decided to forgive Russ for not noticing it. I pointed at the snake through the window, then opened the car door and put one foot on the ground, intending to get out and move the critter. Until I realized I’d never herded a snake to safety before.

I put my foot back inside. “Ummm … what should I do to get it moving?”

Russ grinned. “You could always try picking it up by its rattles.”

“Very funny. I’m not trying to take it home for a pet, so I am not touching it. And it’s not a rattlesnake, either.”

Russ inclined his head toward the shoulder of the road. “Throw a few rocks at it.”

Three handfuls of gravel and four odd looks from passing motorists later, the snake hadn’t blinked an eye or flicked a forked tongue at me. Possibly because I was standing far, far away out of fear it would turn and slither up my pant leg.

That also might explain why my handfuls of gravel barely touched it.

“I give up,” I said getting back in the car. “Maybe it’s dead.”

And that’s when Russ showed what a really good guy he is. “Would you like me to help it off the road for you?”

“Yes, please!”

Russ got out and walked toward the snake, slapping his hands together as if that’s what all snake wranglers do. The snake didn’t move one iota.

I leaned out the window and gave my most sage advice. “It's probably dead.”

Russ stopped three feet away from the reptile’s tail, and then he smacked his foot against the ground. The creature just laid there, looking like an evening snack for a vulture.

“Yup, it's probably dead,” Russ said, echoing my earlier sentiments, and reaching out with his foot to nudge it.

“Just in case, you might not want to do that. You’re not as fast as you used to be,” I called. Corky Porky yapped his agreement.

“Oh, sure I am. I’m just as quick—”

The snake whipped around and lunged for Russ with its nine-hundred foot long fangs.

Never, in all the history of mankind, has an old dude jumped so high, or hopped so fast. But I have to say, I was proud of the old geezer. No, not the snake … Russ. He’d managed to annoy the snake enough that it slithered off the road and into the dirt, and all without getting bit. What more can you ask from a not-as-fast-as-he-used-to-be snake wrangler?

I only wish I’d had a video camera with me.


What's playing in my head: Nothing, I'm too busy laughing at the memory of Russ hopping all over the road, trying to get away from that sssssssssnake.
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Contact Information

Please feel free to contact me at author(at)bythebecks(dot)com. I'd love to hear from you.

Monkey with a Death Wish

Posted by Cindy Beck

(Keywords: monkey, tiger, kids, tease, taunt, death wish, Cindy Beck, humorous writing, LDS humor, humor blog, funny, laugh )

You know how kids taunt and tease each other for fun? Apparently it's not confined to just kids. And it's a pretty safe bet on my part to say that almost all parents watching this will feel the urge to say, "Quit teasing, before someone gets hurt!"





What's playing in my head: Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed.

Watch for my upcoming humor book, Mormon Mishaps and Mischief, due for release in Dec 2009, and co-authored with Nichole Giles. The hilarious, true stories written by Nichole and me, as well as by other outstanding authors, will have you laughing up a storm.

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My Writings ... by Cindy Beck

Mormon Mishaps and Mischief is an anthology of humorous stories of Latter-day Saints at their funniest. Compiled with anecdotes from multiple LDS authors, as well as ones written by co-authors Cindy Beck and Nichole Giles. Release date: December 2009--just in time for Christmas giving! (The book makes a great stocking stuffer!)

You can visit our LDS Humor Blog for more information and for humorous, weekly posts.

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My story, "A Whap on the Head" is featured in the nationally published anthology, My Dad is My Hero, It's available at my website and you can click on the cover image (above) to read an excerpt. This book makes a great gift for Dad for Father's Day, birthday, or Christmas!

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My nationally published short story, "Dancing in the Moonlight" is featured in Cup of Comfort for Breast Cancer Survivors, and is available at my website. It's the story of my feelings about my mom's journey through breast cancer. Click on the image above to read an excerpt. This book is a fantastic birthday or Christmas gift for breast cancer survivors.

If you'd like to read a humorous article about my mom (a 13+ year breast cancer survivor) and her upcoming opportunity to throw out the first pitch at a minor league baseball game (an honor bestowed for her volunteer breast cancer awareness work with Civista Health and before they realized she doesn't know how to throw a ball), click here.

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"Horse on Lap" is the true story of our Arabian horse and the day she did something very unusual ... even for a horse! "Horse on Lap" is featured in Cup of Comfort for Horse Lovers, and is available at my website. Click on the image above to read an excerpt.

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Chariots of Wimpy Fire ... by Cindy Beck

© 2009, Cindy Beck

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, run, jog, Run Through the Lavender 5K, sports training, humorous writing, LDS humor, humor blog, funny, laugh)




YES! I did it! I just completed the Run Through the Lavender 5K! (For those of you who missed out on the antics while I’ve been in training, you can catch up on them here.)

When we arrived at the lavender farm for the race on Saturday morning, we had to walk—along with six million other people who kicked up clouds of swirling dust—from the parking lot to the registration desk. I said to my husband, Russ, “Hack, cough … does this distance from the parking lot … cough, cough … to the registration desk count as part of the run? ‘Cause if it does, we’ll have completed the race before we’re even registered.”

I grabbed my throat. “Aacccckkkkk!”

Russ looked at me through dusty eyelashes. “What’s wrong?”

“I swallowed a bug!”

Looking back on it, I’m sure it was a sign I should turn around and leave. If women were meant to walk/run and risk inhaling bugs in the process, they’d have been built with a bug screen in front of their teeth.

After waiting in line with the same six million people from the parking lot, we received our registration numbers and free T-shirts. The kind of free shirts that cost $17 apiece when we registered. Apparently most runners are munchkins, because all the shirts were size small. Small, as in able to fit a six-year-old who hadn’t eaten for the past three years.

Good thing I hadn’t shown up in just a sports bra, thinking they were giving me a shirt I could wear. The up side though, was that I now had a Christmas present for my four-year-old granddaughter.

We got in line behind the masses at the starting gate. It reminded me of sheep in a chute, being lead to their demise, and I considered running my race by heading back to the car. Before I had a chance, though, someone spoke unintelligible words though a megaphone and then shot a gun in the air, almost killing a crow.

The experienced runners bolted from the gate, while the sane people stood around drinking water and doing deep knee bends to impress each other. Finally, the chute emptied enough for contestants to walk through without getting trampled, and after two or three minutes, Russ and I leisurely strolled over the starting line.

“You don’t think they’re been counting time since they almost shot that bird, do you?” I asked Russ.

“Naw. Why would they do something like that?”

We ambled along a little farther, and the sun came out—warm, bright sun that made us sweat, and made me wonder why they hadn’t found a way to air condition those lavender fields.

That’s also when I realized the pack had thinned and some of them were already three-quarters of the way done with the race. I looked behind, thinking there were at least another hundred people slower than us. Instead, all I saw was a little ol’ lady in a wheelchair and a pregnant woman pushing a stroller. And they were gaining fast.

“Run,” I said to Russ, as he swatted at a mosquito that had targeted him. “Run or we’re going to end up last!”

We ran. And walked. And then ran again.

I stepped on a pointed rock that dug into my heel, and then hopped on one leg for two yards until the pain subsided. “Old people should never run a 5K,” I said to Russ.

Russ wiped the perspiration from his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “It’s not the running that’s the problem. It’s the sweat. Why did you make me take those free T-shirts back to the car? I could’ve used one as a bandana.”

We ran some more. Finally, we only had two yards to the finish line. People cheered on the sidelines, and a burst of exhilaration flooded through me, along with a jolt of adrenaline. I would make it! I was a runner. Nothing could stop me. I was—aaccccckkkkkk!

Choking, I attempted to spit up the gum I'd been chewing that had slid down my throat the wrong way. If you’ve ever tried running, and then accidentally swallowed your gum and got it stuck half-way down, you know it brings you to a dead stop. There I stood, three feet from the end, trying to cough up a gum hairball.

Unbeknown to Russ, my original idea was to put on a burst of speed and beat him across the finish line. At that moment, my plan instantly changed to remaining conscious and not being carried away by an ambulance in front of six million people.

I swallowed hard, and in those few seconds it took to get the gum down, Russ crossed the finish line in front of me.

I should be disappointed, but I’m not. With all the help Russ gave while I’ve been training, I suppose he deserved to come in ahead of me. And there’s always the next 5K … when I plan to offer Russ a stick of gum just before the finish, and then run like heck to beat him.



(Although I may have taken a small amount of literary license in this, the Run Through the Lavender 5K was well-organized and the lavender fields were beautiful. Also, the race organizers were very kind to say they’d send the right size shirts if people would leave their addresses. I’d recommend the race to anyone … just don’t chew gum while you’re running it.)


What's playing in my head: Chariots of Fire, the really tired version.

My Olympic-Worthy Training ... by Cindy Beck

© 2009 Cindy Beck

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, run, jog, Run Through the Lavender 5K, Olympics, sports training, humorous writing, LDS humor, humor blog, funny, laugh)



The Olympics. They’ve always been a goal of mine. Well, at least to watch them on TV.

The other day, while doing extensive research into the voice and technique of other writers … all right I’ll admit it, I was reading blogs … I came across a mention of the Run Through the Lavender 5K.

Wait, let me think. Did that happen while reading blogs? No, I think it took place while researching how to make Twinkies.

At any rate, I found this website and suddenly a mysterious longing to enter the 5K overcame me. I figure some kind of bad mojo grabbed me, because my mind would never come up with a harebrained idea like that. Seriously, if I were meant to run, I’d have four long legs and a pedometer growing out of my head.

But … I digress. When I saw the website, I had visions of myself in spandex, running through the lavender fields of Mona, Utah, inhaling the spicy fragrance that wafted off the fields. That lasted all of thirty seconds, and was followed by the mental image of me trying to squeeze into those running clothes in the first place. The words "myself" and "spandex" do not belong in the same sentence, much less in the same vision.

Nevertheless, I felt determined to run … okay, jog … okay, mostly walk … that 5K. For the past two weeks, I’ve been in training. No fattening foods allowed. Except maybe for chocolate cake. And a cookie or two. And anything else I can get away with when my husband, Russ, isn’t looking.

In the evenings, Russ and I train by running up a humongous hill. It’s exhausting, but I have to say that carrying me on his shoulders has done wonders for Russ’s stamina. Mine, too, because balancing on top of an old, bald guy requires strength and endurance. And usually an extra donut or so.

The 5K takes place on July 11, 2009 at 7:00 in the morning. I’m really hoping you’ll all show your support by not coming, and that my family will be busy that day, so no one will be there to watch me stagger and trip over the finish line.

After that, I plan to go home and watch my video-taped version of the 1922 Olympics—a time in which men were men and spandex wasn’t invented.

What's playing in my head: Chariots of Fire by Vangelis

Are Women Born This Way?

Posted by Cindy Beck

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, women, little girl talking, toddler on YouTube, talk too much, humorous writing, LDS humor, humor blog, funny, laugh)

This video is so cute that I'm double posting it this morning ... here and at the LDS Humor site that I co-author with Nichole Giles. I hope it won't be a repeat for any of you, but if it is, it's so cute you'll probably want to watch it twice. It doesn't really give us a clue to the inner workings of a woman's mind, but you do have to laugh at the little girl. Take a minute to watch the expressions on her face.

And in all fairness to the guys, since I posted a blog of manly bloopers at the beginning of June, it's only right to take a pot shot at the gals ... by wondering if women are born this way.

(By the way, a bit of info for my friends and readers at BYU and who were unable to view YouTube videos--I just saw on the news that BYU is no longer blocking YouTube, so you get to share in the fun!)





What's playing in my head: You Talk too Much. Original release by Joe Jones, YouTube version by The Shades.

The Earache ... by Cindy Beck

© Cindy Beck, 2009

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, ear, earache, herbal, homeopathic, antibiotics, humorous writing, LDS humor, humor blog, funny, laugh)



Two weeks ago, I woke up feeling like someone had stuffed a golf ball in my ear. I thought about accusing my husband, Russ, who was the only other person in the room at the moment, but instead, I staggered out of bed ... only to find the floor rushing up to meet me and then spinning in circles around me.

"Seems like you might have an ear infection," Russ commented from his comfortable, non-spinning position on the bed.

A week later, when it felt like the golf ball had morphed into a bowling ball, I went to the doctor. She peered in one ear and then the other. "It looks a little red, but not too bad. Ear drops should take care of the problem."

As we walked out of the office, Russ glanced skeptically at the dark bottle of oil. "Wouldn't you be better off with antibiotics?"

"I'm trying the homicidal method."

For some strange reason, Russ looked like he was trying not to laugh. Which was good, because earaches are no laughing matter. He said, "I think you mean homeopathic—not homicidal."

When we got home, I looked at the healthy, herbal ingredients listed on the bottle. Calendula, St. John's wort ... and garlic.

Yup, garlic. Like the stuff you put in Italian food. Only I was supposed to put it in my ear. No harm in trying, right?

That night, Russ climbed into bed next to me and gave me a hug. Then he sniffed the air, like Uncle Vinnie tracking a plate of lasagna. "Something in this room smells like garlic bread. I wonder what it could be."

Garlic bread? Lucky for him, his sarcasm was lost on me because I had drops in my ear and couldn't hear. Otherwise, I would've responded with something exceptionally witty.

The next morning, my ear still hurt, and the room smelled like a garlic factory. Don't tell Russ, but right then I gave up on the herbal, homicidal route, and called the doctor for a healthy dose of antibiotics. After all, why walk around smelling like garlic toast when a little moldy bread will do?


What's playing in my head: That's Amore, by Dean Martin

Crazy Eights ... by Cindy Beck

© Cindy Beck, 2009

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, Band-aids, Cedar Fort, clean drains, Crazy Eights, dogs, false teeth, humor, kazoo, Mormon Mishaps and Mischief, Oscar Mayer, tag, humorous writing, LDS humor, humor blog, funny, submission guidelines, smile, laugh)



I was recently tagged by Ronda Hinrichsen in a game of Crazy Eights Tag. The idea behind it is to tell four sets of eight things that might be of interest to others. Since I don't have much on my list of "Things with Which to Wow Other People," I'll just go ahead and write whatever comes to mind ... and tell you all the things about me that you never wanted to know and were afraid to ask me not to tell.

Eight Things I Look Forward To:
1. Breakfast
2. Lunch
3. Supper
4. Having long legs and silky hair in the next life.
5. No, I don't mean long legs covered in silky hair. Then I'd have to shave more.
6. And I don't mean long legs in addition to the two short ones I already have. That would make me a quadriphead ... quadraphed ... aw heck, a four-legged person.
7. At this point, I look forward to learning to spell correctly in the next life.

Eight Things I Did Yesterday:
1. Breathed in.
2. Breathed out.
3. Listened for a heart beat.
4. Hooray, I was still alive and kicking!
5. Accidentally left my cell phone in my pant's pocket.
6. Washed the very same pants in the washing machine.
7. Called my cell phone from my land line and wondered why it didn't ring.
8. Wondered if anybody had loose change they'd like donate to that world-famous charitable group, "Pennies for Cell Phones." You know, the group that buys and gives cell phones to worthy receptients ... receivenpents ... aw heck, poor spellers around the globe.

Eight Things I Wish I Could Do:
1. Suck stuff out of the drain.
2. No, not with my mouth—with a vacuum cleaner. Do I hear you ask, "What kind of stuff?" Oh, I don't know ... false teeth maybe. Not that I have false teeth, but you never know what lies ahead and if my teeth (false or otherwise) were to fall down the drain, I'd like to be able to get them back again.
3. Take care of my teeth so I don't ever need to suck false ones out of the drain.
4. Invent something cool.
5. Invent something cool that would make me forty-eleven gazillion dollars so I could buy a new cell phone.
6. Learn to play a musical instrument ... perhaps a wazoo.
7. Oops, sorry that was supposed to be kazoo!
8. Learn to type better.

Eight Shows I Watch:
1-4. Band-Aid commercials.



5-8 Oscar Mayer commercials.



Eight Friends I Am Tagging (but if you've already been tagged or don't want to play, it's fine with me. I'm jiggy with it):
1. Oz-Girl
2. Slam Dunks
3. Doug Johnston
4. Joyce DiPastena
5. Anna Junus
6. Dave Beck
7. Bron Bahlmann
8. Russ Beck (who doesn't have a blog ... but maybe getting tagged will inspire him to start one.)

Here are the Rules:
1. Mention the person who tagged you.
2. Complete the list of 8's.
3. Tag 8 other bloggers.
4. Tell them they have been tagged.


What's playing in my head: Oscar Mayer Bologna Theme Song.

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Win a Cool Book ... TODAY!

Just a quick post to tell you how you can win a book with one of my stories in it ... winner's choice of Cup of Comfort for Breast Cancer Survivors, Cup of Comfort for Horse Lovers, or My Dad is My Hero!

Go to my website at http://www.bythebecks.com/bookstore.html and scroll down until you see the info about Cup of Comfort for Horse Lovers. Find the name of my horse (not hard to do :) and then send the name off in an email to the contest coordinator: jdipastena@yahoo.com. If your name is drawn from those submitted, you'll win a copy of your choice of the three books listed above.

That's it; it's that simple! (I just love easy contests where you don't have to run all over the place and dance in the street like a chicken to enter ... don't you?)

Oh, forgot to tell you that the prizes change every day for the rest of the month, so if you want to win one of my books get that email sent out today!

Good luck!

Cindy

PS: If you want to read the rules and find out about other great prizes, go to: http://jdp-news.blogspot.com/2009/05/welcome-to-our-summer-treasure-hunt-dig.html.

Manly Bloopers ... posted by Cindy Beck

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, manly bloopers, Hall and Oates, Maneater, contests, humorous writing, humorous blog, humor blog, funny, smile, laugh, humor)

I'll be the first to admit it isn't nice to laugh at others' misfortunes, but sometimes we just can't help it. And besides, we're not laughing at them, we're laughing with ...

Okay, so we're laughing at them. If I ever run into the guys in these videos—and it would be more likely from watching this that they'll literally run into me—I'll apologize then for laughing.





(For an interesting music video, click on the link below in "What's playing in my head." The jaguar in it is pretty awesome. )

What's playing in my head: Man Eater by Hall and Oates.


Looking for great LDS gifts, articles, and services? Take a minute to browse through yourLDSNeighborhood.com.

And while you're there, subscribe to their fantastic newsletter, which brings you articles, products, services, resources and interviews from around the world—all with an LDS focus. Neighborhood Newsletter Subscriptions are FREE, and joining is easy.

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Contests!

This week I actually have two give-aways going on. Over at Queen of the Clan and at Joyce DiPastena's blogs you can enter to win your choice of one of the national anthologies that carry my short stories ... Cup of Comfort for Horse Lovers, Cup of Comfort for Breast Cancer Survivors, or My Dad is My Hero.

No matter which book you might choose, it's great for yourself or for gift-giving. (Please note that although I write a lot of humor, these books are best described as, "heart-warming.")

Dash over there today and enter at:

Queen of the Clan (contest for my prize runs until Friday, but you can enter for other prizes every week until the end of August, 2009.)

Joyce DiPastena (contest for my prize is on June 11, but you can enter for other prizes, too, until the end of June, 2009.)

Good luck!

The Easter Daffodil

© Cindy Beck, 2009

(Keywords: Cindy Beck, Easter, daffodil, Peruvian daffodil, Star Trek, Death Star, humorous writing, humorous blog, humor blog, funny, smile, laugh)





In these days of shifting moral values, declining economies, and cheese that comes in a can, I thought a blog on finding ways to make Easter a spiritual experience would be a welcome change. Therefore, I wrote an insightful, never-to-be-forgotten but soon-to-be-overlooked entry called "Easter Lost, Easter Found" at my other blog.

Okay, I know that Easter is a distant memory for most of us, but this story has just finished playing itself out in the past few days, so I wanted to tell you about it.

After posting "Easter Lost, Easter Found," I felt perfectly content to ignore the sage advice I'd given others in the article. Then, just hours later, a little angel showed up on my shoulder—like in the old Bugs Bunny cartoons—and said, "Aren't you going to practice what you preach?"

After ignoring the meddlesome thing for a few days, I finally gave in, decided to follow my own suggestion, and went searching for a flower to plant that would bloom as a symbol of Easter. Unfortunately, other people must have had the same idea, even without reading my blog, and the choices at the garden center consisted of Peruvian daffodils or Peruvian daffodils. What, hadn't they ever heard of Easter lilies?

I purchased a sack of two for $20.00, which seemed a little expensive, but hey, they came all the way from Peru and somebody had to pay for their flight. I drove through the dark, envisioning the beauty of my flowers in the weeks to come. When I arrived home, I hauled out an old clay pot. It didn't look very Eastery, but I refused to rummage around in the shed—where at night spiders morphed into creatures the size of hippopotami—to find another flowerpot.

After accidentally dumping half the potting soil in the sink, and the other half on Corky Porky Pie—who thought it was some kind of dog treat from heaven and proceeded to eat it—I managed to get a cup of soil in the pot.

Russ looked dubious as I shoved in the bulb and added water. "What's that actually supposed to do?"

"It's supposed to grow into a fragrant, white daffodil. It'll be a reminder of Easter and increase our spirituality. Just like I wrote about."

"Looks more like it'll be a reminder not to let the dog eat dirt," he said, as Corky Porky Pie burped up a mound the size of Texas.

A day later, a tender green stalk pushed its way through the soil. Two days later, the stalk grew to six inches. By the end of the week, the plant practically touched the ceiling and Shaquille O'Neal could've used it for pole vaulting.

Russ made me put it in the closet at night, for fear it would come after us.

Finally, it bloomed. Russ came home from work, took one look and did a double take. "What kind of plant did you say that was?"

I reached over to smell it before answering, and yellow pollen stuck to the end of my nose, making it look like I'd been snorting butter. "It's a daffodil and it's supposed to be fragrant."

"So, is it?"

"No, but it's supposed to be."

Russ shook his head, probably in wonder at my gardening expertise. "It doesn't look much like a daffodil. It looks more like something you'd see on Star Trek."

The thing bloomed for several weeks, growing taller and taller. I only wished I'd taken a picture of it, so you could see it. However, by the time I thought of that, it had finished blooming.

I wouldn't say my little horticultural experiment was a failure. After all, I do have a plant that sits on my deck, entwining itself about my roof. It's not exactly what I had in mind, though, so next year I plan to pick something that will remind me less of Star Trek, and more of Easter.

I wonder how "Death Star Tulips" would look.


What's playing in my head: Theme from Star Trek.

Looking for great LDS gifts, articles, and services? Take a minute to browse through yourLDSNeighborhood.com.

And while you're there, subscribe to their fantastic newsletter, which brings you articles, products, services, resources and interviews from around the world—all with an LDS focus. Neighborhood Newsletter Subscriptions are FREE, and joining is easy.

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