Mayonnaise should die

Whoever thought up the white, smelly goop that seems to proliferate the hamburger joints and hotdog stands of America?

Personally, I don't want to smear rotten smelling anything on my burger. Not only does it resemble runny yogurt, it smells like uck . YUCK!

And in all places I know of, you have to specify NOT to put mayo on things. Did you know they even offer it with fries in some places? Double yuck.

I know that food is a precious commodity, but mayonnaise doesn't qualify! Kill mayonnaise!

Face Plant

I watch an almost two yr. old two days a week. She's cute. Used to resemble Gollum when she was younger, but time has been kind. She has hair now and the gangly limbs and hunched walk have faded. And I still have yet to hear her say 'my precious'...

At the park today she was on the regular old swings, no straps or restraining devices. Loves it! Sings and laughs and blinks her big eyes in the sunshine that flashes though the trees. We've done this time and again on the big girl swings. And always I say 'hold on tight' and she squeezes her little hands so the fingertips go white.

Today in her joy she decides to point out the other open swing next to her. Not quite up on the one handed swinging yet, she underdogs herself and face plants in the pebbles. She sat up quite stunned and dusty and looked at me with loaded eyes and then started to wail.

Of course I was racing to her ( all of what? three feet?) and thinking 'why on earth did she let go?'. Hugs later and with tears dried I was glad she was fine and she did the bravest thing. She grabbed my hand and dragged me to the swings and made me put her back on and give her a BIG push (she loves the little bit of air she can catch in a big push, the early signs of an adrenaline junkie).

Inspired to let go, maybe fly and maybe fall, to get up and try all over again for a bit of air I might catch. All by a two years old. Amazing.

So much for it being 2005

My dear friend is heartbroken. Or mayhaps heartbruised. Always tragic, assuredly, but more so when you know the cause.

How can one still, in this forward thinking time, this century, hate or shun someone based only on the tint of skin?

I have laughed at the ignorance of old timers and the generations gone, thinking 'how naive of them' and pitying them for their blindness. People, no matter the color of their hair, or the length of their nose or the limp in their walk are, after all, still people.

People are much the same. They want more than anything to be loved. They want someone to listen to them, hold them, tell them that even if the world falls apart that the love will go on. How can we expect that to happen when we cannot see with our hearts and look only with our eyes?