On this day in history…

True Story.  About five decades ago, maybe a little more…. ON a Wednesday…. a baby girl was born in a hospital in a Midwestern city.  It was much like any other hospital in the Midwest, except for one thing.  The Queen of Denmark had been visiting the city, and she was pretty pregnant.  As it turns out, she went into labor prematurely, was rushed to the VERY SAME hospital, and gave birth to a little girl, on the VERY SAME DAY.  Both of these events transpired within an hour or so of one another.

Now, the first girl to be born was me.  Early in the day.  The second child was the Queen’s.  I weighed 9 pounds 10 ounces, and was a pretty dang healthy baby. Chubby.  Like a Walrus. But the Queen’s little girl was premature.  Spindly. Sickly. Not in very good shape.   The Queen was dismayed, and felt she could not return to the Homeland with such a poor specimen of a Danish child.

So… that fine Queen… Margrethe II… summoned her three of her best bodyguards.  They were to go to the hospital nursery, and switch babies.  They were to find the girl who looked most like her little Baby Ingrid, but much healthier.

And I entered the scene.  Yes, I was switched at birth, and taken back to the Royal Palace in Denmark.  As it turns out, they kept me for about 2 months.  I was Little Princess Ingrid. Yet…. they decided early on… there was something very odd about me.  It could have been the over queued reserve of energy, even as a newborn.  Or the constant chatter.  Or the fact that it appeared that I was seeing things, and pointing randomly at this and that… as if something were really there.  I would gesture my hands, and laugh.

So. In late June of that same year, the team of bodyguards flew back to the U.S., problem-child in tow, and in the middle of the night, put me back with my birth family.  And they took Princess Ingrid back to Denmark… pleasantly plump at this point. Like a Dutch Princess.

This would explain my affinity for Dyrlægens natmad…. which is dark rye bread, a layer of liver pâté (leverpostej), topped with a slice of saltkød (salted beef) and a slice of sky (meat jelly).  Gawd, I can’t get enough of the things.

And here we are.

Today as I sat with my birth mother, I reflected on my childhood, and all she must have sacrificed to be my Mom.  All the love and car she gave to me. All the band-aids and “There, there’s.”

She had no idea today was my birthday.  Midway through the visit, my brother called, and they sang Happy Birthday, in tandem, to me.  She was so excited and wanted to have a party.  Then, about 2 minutes later… she had no recollection that this had just transpired, or that it was even Spring.  She hoped it wouldn’t snow today.

As I changed her diaper for the second time, she said “Look who’s the baby now.”  But 5 minutes later, she commented that she’d like to go out and buy a new car this afternoon.  By the time we got back to her chair, she asked for her third snack of the morning.

I am glad for all of this. It is a tremendous birthday gift, to be with her, and have our moments of laughter.  And we do.

Had things gone the other way… I’d be in some incredibly huge castle in Denmark right now… looking out over the Rhine River, counting the sapphires in my crown…. ….snacking on liver pate’ with little birthday candles in it.  With my dog named Dorit.  In a golden gown made of silk and diamonds.

Okay… truth be told… in ALL sounded pretty good until I had to put on a dress.  All bets are off there……  Queen Mum of mine.

You see…. I am exactly where I am supposed to be… and I love being right here.  Concisely  where my life has led me.  On this birthday of mine.  I am thankful for it all.  I am thankful for you.  On this Wednesday.  Some five decades later.

We are born wet, naked, and hungry. Then things get worse. ~Author Unknown

Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid. ~Frederick Buechner

There is just so much in this world of ours.

From the amazingly good, to extremely sad.  The  range is wide and far.

On any given day, I can span through a whole range of emotions.  Some times more than others, and today was one of those days.
Yes, there were times when I felt very, very happy. And other times when I experienced such sadness, I could feel nothing but the pit of my stomach growing deeper and wider.

I saw pregnant deer tonight.  Flowers blooming.  Glorious food.

I saw terrible things on the news.  Anger and hatred.  Death.

I heard good things about people. Today, I felt incredible gestures of love and friendship.  I experienced times of healing today, and other times of complete peace.  Then hours, or even moments later, learned of things which were devastating.  Or came in touch with brushes of life’s unfairness to others.  Things which had gone terribly wrong in many corners of the planet.

I don’t know how to explain any of it. Other than, once upon a time, we fell to earth…. and we are humans.  Here we are.  Gravity pulled us right in to this existence.  And some day it will put us back where it found us.  And this…. my favorite friends…. is the “everything” in between.

Each day, I must figure out a way to be thankful for all of it.  It is how the universe has transpired to each given moment. Each moment, resting and relying on the previous moment.

As we wake tomorrow, I hope this sun ball at the center of our universe will shine.  And in the night the moon will find its way back into the sky.  For there is nothing certain about this place here.  And we can feel that ever pressing existence of the gravity, holding our feet to the surface of the earth ball. As we hurl 67,000  miles per hour through space.  No need to hold on.  We stick all by ourselves.  At least, for now.

Tonight… I don’t really have a lot of hot air in me.  So… instead I will tell you a short, but very true story.

I for one, have never ridden in one.  I am not sure that I ever will.  I’d probably like it.  But there have been some pretty unsuccessful stories concerning the Hot Air Balloon.

When they were first invented and launched, they went up and came down… without a soul in them.  But the first “manned flight” was NOT really manned at all.  It was anim-ated.  Yep.  Filled with a couple of animals.

On the 19th Day of September in the year 1783 a guy name Pilatre De Rozier scheduled a launch.  His hot air balloon was called ‘Aerostat Reveillon’.  Now, this guy was a scientist and he had a very good reason for the choice of his passengers.   Most of which came directly from his boss.

You see, scientists back then, typically did not have a lot of money.  So they sought out “sponsors” for their explorations.  Pilatre De Rozier, (let’ call him Pat) was no different.  He found a very rich Jean Picot. (How’s John sound from here on out.)

So the morning of the launch, John and Pat were getting the basket ready, testing early hot air fills.  They tethered the basket to the ground with stakes, and such.  On the second air fill, they were discussing “WHO” should go up.  Well… the basket started to drift a bit… and Boss John said to Pat…. in his French-ness….. “Duck you cock.”

Well, the basket hit Pat and knocked him down, but that was neither here nor there.  However, an hour later, during the real launch, Boss John thought Pat was taking the thing up for a spin.

Much to his surprise, up went a duck and a sheep, and a rooster.   John yelled to Pat… “You idiot. What have you done?”

Pat replied… “Exactly what you said.  Balloon! Duck! Ewe! Cock!”

And history was made.

For some reason, I have macaroni pieces on my mind.  Remember when we were kids, and we used to spend a fair amount of our time doing “Arts & Crafts” in school, and at camp, or in Boy Scouts or Girl Scouts, and such?

We used to take macaroni pieces and glue them to paper, and color them with paint or markers to make a picture.  Early brushes with mosaics.  Lots of pieces fitting together to make something beautiful and complete.

Or, how about pipe cleaners.  There used to be whole art classes devoted to conjuring figures out of pipe cleaners.

Then the ultimate construction project with popsicle sticks, or Quaker Oat boxes, or toilet paper cardboard rolls.  Cutting strips of construction paper and weaving them into place mats.  Paper plate art.  Hand-print-finger-paint pictures of turkeys, and rabbits, and butterflies, or whatever.

My personal favorite…. the clay ashtray.  Oh, every time we had a clay ashtray project, I would be happy as a pig in the mud.  And there was no shortage of people to receive this awesome hand made gift.  Everybody smoked, everywhere.

As adults, we just don’t sit down and do the arts & crafts like we used to.  Not most of us.  The world needs more clay ashtrays, I’ll tell you. And popsicle benches.  And pipe cleaner people skiing, or playing tennis.  It is like having a Coke and a Smile.

I would like to think that these things would make the world a better place.  But.  But I think it is going to take a heck of a lot more than Elmer’s Glue to fix the sum of things on this earth of ours.

You see, tonight I watched 60 Minutes on CBS and it scared the holy-heck right out of me.  Not so much the part about the Laser Weapons in outer space.  What really shook me was the father of the Syrian family, weeping, because he had to risk the life of every single person in his family, for them to flee Syria together.  On a ramshackle boat.  All because everyone there in Syria, “everyone, has turned into monsters. No one loves anyone here anymore.  No one.  There is no love.”  And he wept.

And I wished I could scoop them up and take them away from there.  And sit down with them, and make macaroni pictures.  To take all those little pieces and put them together to make a whole picture that was beautiful, and that made sense.  I wanted to watch those kids smile again.  That’s what I wished.

Today’s big excursion started bright and early before the crack of dawn.  Yes, I was up before the roosters.  I could not contain the excitement.  A Chicken Show was on the horizon, and I was ready.

We started at The Eaton Place for breakfast. Of course, I had my standard fare of chicken eggs…. 3 of them this morning.  However, this seemed somewhat muddled and conflicted… given the day ahead.  But those eggs were OH-SO-GOOD.

Then, Northward Bound we traveled.  We drove through the rain, up to the Darke County Fairgrounds. It was quite busy there.  Yet, our exploratory skills took us right to the Chicken Show.  As we approached the building… I said to Mary… “Oh my holy-heck.  It sounds like someone is murdering those chickens in there.”  She laughed at my naivety.  “Some of them can be quite vocal,” she suggested.

So, in the building we went.  And, no, no, no.  They were not being murdered at all.  They were simply conversing. Like Chickens Do.  I found the instigator of the whole deal, I think.  It was a large Chinese Goose in the very first row.  Apparently, he had learned one English word… and repeated it incessantly.  “What…..  What…..  What….. What.”

Well… just ask any old chicken the question “What?” and she will surely tell you.  At length.

At any rate, we had a blast, meeting all the chickens, (and ducks, and geese, and such.)  It was more of fowl show, than just a chicken show.

But I can tell you quite assuredly, I am now a PROUD Member of the American Poultry Association.  Dues paid. Card in hand.

I nearly bought a scruffy little chicken. which I had already named Phyllis, but I was dissuaded.   As the morning passed, I was enthralled with all these lovely creatures… except for the guinea chickens.  Not so crazy for them.

The best part… was that a few of them actually laid eggs… RIGHT before my EYES.  Imagine my glee, and jubilation.  I jumped for joy.  Now. This would be akin to seeing Ronald McDonald in a cage, and witnessing a Big Mac appear mysteriously from his underside. …. on a sesame seed bun….

How could the day have been any better?  We’ll I will tell.  The next stop was The Dog Show, at the Preble County Fairgrounds.

Chickens AND dogs in ONE day.

But at the dog show, I had a tremendous interaction with a Champion Golden Retriever named Dillon.  We sat and talked for as long as his handler would allow us.  He was truly Golden.

I can only say that this was better than Christmas, fresh baked chocolate chips cookies, and sandy beaches… all rolled into one.

Much more excitement, and I would have peed.  In fact I am pretty worn out from all of this.  So I have to make like a chicken… and get the cluck out of here.

There are gifts all around us, I’ll tel you.  Sometimes we don’t feel like seeing them, or appreciating them.  But those gifts are there.  All for the goodness of our hearts and souls.

Call them whatever the heck you want.  Blessings.  Good Fortune.  Luck.  The Grandiose Gifts from the Gods.  The nomenclature doesn’t really matter.

They are the-good-stinking-things in life.

Now… they can fall out of the sky from anywhere, or spring out of the ground.  Or they could be sitting next to you every night at the dinner table.  But not only are they outside of our personal being, and everywhere around us… they… most certainly….are inside too.

We are smart.  We can speak, eat, pee, hear, sing, breathe, walk, hop and touch our index fingers to our noses.  The numbers of our gifts are pretty infinite really.  All the way down to how our white blood cells fight infections, or how the messages in our brains, from neurons and such, travel at about 270 mph.  Yes, we are speedy thinkers.  Some speedier than others.

So imagine my delight and surprise when I sped past this sign on my way home the other day.  I screeched on the brakes, and did a Starsky & Hutch 180-spin with my car. (Or… for the younger generation… “The Fast & Furious” Vin Diesel slam-stop.)  I pulled into the parking lot… hopped out of my car…. and did the Chicken Dance for Joy.  Yes, right there in the parking lot.

A Chicken Whisperer.  Who KNEW?  A Chicken WHISPERER!  How the heck does THAT work?  Now SURELY….& TRULY…. this  is a Grandest and Greatest Gift from the Chicken Gods.  I can only imagine what this may mean for ME!  St. Brigid, Patron Saint of Chickens….Thank YOU.

I am MOST CERTAINLY attending, and I am bringing a HUGE egg basket, and maybe even a skillet.  Oh what a day it will be.

Perhaps I should even go out and by a Chicken. And take that Chicken with me.

Yet… all of this begs the question.  Do chickens have ears?  And if they do not… how does one whisper to a chicken.  I guess I will find out.  Another blessing to look forward to….

“Scientists have calculated that the chances of something so patently absurd actually existing are millions to one.   But magicians have calculated that million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten.”  ― Terry Pratchett, Mort

Thanks for listening to MPR Radio.  Monkey-ish Primate Radio:  Where every voice can be heard… from Bonobos to Sockmonkeys.”

And now a word from our Sponsor…. Perplexerall.  One Pill Does it All.  Perplexerall.

Sometimes, only words like “thwarted” will do. Or “quashed.”

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And now back to our regularly scheduled show…  The Magic Power of Bananas: Peel the Magic.

Yeppers.  There are days like those.  It feels like a wrench hit the working monkey.  Or is it… someone threw a monkey wrench in the works.

Either way… when the monkey looks this bad…. when there simply is no sock left in his monkey butt … it can only mean that things got so crazy… even the bananas left the bunch.

BUT.  But, But, but….. here is the thing to remember.  When we are having the crappiest of days… when things seem to being going in the wrong direction… WE have the power not to make it any worse.

We have the power to find a way to make….. at least….  part of it better.  WE are capable of seeing at least one good thing about that day.  Any day.  I truly believe we do.

Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken. – Albert Camus

I write about the power of trying, because I want to be okay with failing. I write about generosity because I battle selfishness. I write about joy because I know sorrow. I write about faith because I almost lost mine, and I know what it is to be broken and in need of redemption. I write about gratitude because I am thankful – for all of it.  –  Kristin Armstrong

When the grandkids were a little younger… like about 12 years ago… we used to talk about what our Super Powers would be if we were Super Heroes.  We had a notebook full of this stuff.

Oh, we knocked around everything.  You could have ANY Super Power you wanted.. anything you could dream up.  BUT.  You could  possess only one super power.  That is the way of The Powers after all.

So, in my Zen self… I would think… Infinite Healer… or Super Psychic.   But the implications of those could be enormous.  Monumental.

Super strength or speed. Flame thrower.  Ice Maker.  Storm Creator.  Anything.

I typically settled on Shape Shifter.  Yep. That’s me the old Shape Shifter. I think it would be a great deal of fun to turn into “This” or “That” at will.  Or any “Who”….  (That’s where there phrase comes from, by the way.  When people say… “Well…Any Who.”)

Digressing again. Dang it.

Shape Shifter.  I could turn into an ANY WHO.  I could warp into  a turtle, or a speed skater, or a ballerina… or Jeb Bush… for all that matters.  Now this, is where it gets complicated.  So.  When you shape shift into a Dolphin, can you swim and breathe like a Dolphin, or do you still have your normal qualities, and just LOOK like a Dolphin?  If you get their characteristics…. the Shape Shifter would be best.  You could shape shift into any Super Hero… if that were the case.  And be super strong, or fast, psychic.

I have so many questions and I can’t find my Super Hero Manual anywhere.

But truth be told.  It really doesn’t matter.  We are mere mortals.  We have our very own “Any Who’s” and that is it.
But, that begs the question.. ….. … how “mere” is mere?  And just “Who” is in your Any Who?

We are who we are.  Each one of us.  And in that… we EACH have our very OWN Super Powers.  No Shape Shifting Necessary. I really believe this is true.  I have SO many friends, and family, and acquaintances… who are full of Super Power.  They are… simply amazing.

They may not leap tall buildings.. but I’ve seen them over come huge obstacles.  They may not fly through the air, but they soar through life.  All sorts of great qualities.

And that’s the trick,…. finding our talents…. and flying with them.  Finding our good, and make it worthwhile.  Seeing our “one” thing (or “ten” things) and making a difference.

That is Heroic.  In the most Epic of Proportions.

One of my biggest life lessons is this:  I still have a lot to learn.

Dag nab it.
Lord knows I try.
But around every bend comes a new thing, a new situation, one that I possible couldn’t have seen coming.  I’m not talking about monumental, life-altering experiences.  No. Those deserve a Month-of-Sundays-of-Blogs.

I am talking about Little Things. When I say something stupid, or when I commit to doing something… which I later regret.  It is about how I react when my teacup gets rattled.  Or losing my entire Cool-Whip over tiny things.   You know…. times when the packing tape gets all stuck together, or when an entire dozen of chicken eggs drop on the floor.

I guess my biggest glitch, is that I get stuck on it. Whatever that “it” may be.  Yes.  I have a lot to learn.  Oh, that Frozen Movie said it again, and again, and again, and again… and…… …. well… you know.  The song is so burned in my mind… I can’t even say it out loud.  I have to SAY it in Pig Latin….. Et-lay It-tay oh-gay.
But…. …. Emerson did it better.

“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.”
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

So the important thing, I suspect, it to truly make amends when we need to.  With others, and with ourselves.  And then get back to the seeing the bright side of life.  I defer to Ms. Browning…..

“Earth’s crammed with heaven… But only he who sees, takes off his shoes.”
― Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Yep. Take your shoes off and stay awhile.  Color with crayons.  Sing a happy song.  Spin around in circles.  Eat ice-cream.  Roll down a hill.  Laugh.  Be Alive.  Notice.

“Genius is nothing more nor less than childhood recaptured at will.”
― Charles Baudelaire

I successfully used a Coupon today.  This is big dang news. You see, I am not a Coupon User.

Now, I think the Coupon is a wild and wonderful thing, in fact.  They are amazingly great…. as you can save dimes, quarters, dollars, and such.  Yep.  I have heard of people saving hundreds of dollars with coupons.

But alas.  You could even say… Woe Is Me… when it comes to coupons.  I just don’t have the right kind of brain for it.  The deal with the Polly-Head is this.  IF I see a coupon that might be relevant to my shopping needs, I think…. Oh, that would be handy to use the next time I buy the Big-Kahuna-Bag of Fried Cheeto Snacks.  But then, the trouble begins.  By the time I make it to the drawer… where I keep the scissors… to clip the coupon… I have been side-tracked by filling the water bowls for the dogs, getting a nail and hammer, to hang that picture of Van Gogh….once and for all….  and finally, stopping by the refrigerator to see if we have plenty of chicken eggs on hand.

Eventually … I find myself at the scissor drawer, and I have absolutely NO idea why I stand before the drawer… in reverence and awe.  But… let’s say I do come up with the memory of a coupon, and I actually make it BACK to the source of the coupon.    WITH the scissors. And then I CLIP the SAID coupon.

The next battle begins.  Making the decision where to put the coupon….. so that I will be sure to use it the next time I go to buy Colossal Cheetos.  Hey.  How about in my PURSE! Brilliant.

Another challenge, and adventure begins at this point.  Getting the coupon to my purse without becoming distracted by stopping and checking the thermostat, taking the recyclables out to the garage, and seeing that the shelves in the entryway need to be dusted.  Perhaps….. you are seeing a pattern, I might guess.

But, if the coupon does get to my purse, the chances that I will have any recollection of the existence of this piece of golden paper…. as I stand in line at the grocery…. while I am snacking on a Big-Bertha-Bag of Cheetos while I wait in line…. IS SLIM to none.

You see, I am munching prematurely to get my strength up for the bagging process.  I love to bag groceries.  It fulfills my High-Spacial-Awareness IQ.

At any rate….I get distracted… because the waiting is getting to me.  It has been the slooooowwwww line because the lady in front of me is one of those Coupon Clippers, with the huge flipping wallet of coupons… and she is holding things up… …  with all these coupons.  That should probably mean something to me…..  but alas…..

A nickel ain’t worth a dime anymore. –Yogi Berra

Never spend your money before you have it. –Thomas Jefferson

Wealth is the ability to fully experience life. –Henry David Thoreau