Sherry Ellis's Blog, page 32
October 19, 2015
Flying Money
I caught my eleven-year-old son folding dollar bills into paper airplanes.
"Dude," I said. "What are you doing?"
He grinned. "You know how you always say, 'money is flying out the door'?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm making it really fly out the door. Watch!"
He opened the front door and set a few of his planes into motion.
Yep. That was watching money fly out the door!
Now, for a little something extra: I shared this video clip from my recital with my Facebook friends, but I thought there might be some of you who aren't on Facebook, who might like to see it. This is from the Schubert "Arpeggione" Sonata in A minor. Allen Baston is the pianist.
"Dude," I said. "What are you doing?"
He grinned. "You know how you always say, 'money is flying out the door'?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm making it really fly out the door. Watch!"
He opened the front door and set a few of his planes into motion.
Yep. That was watching money fly out the door!
Now, for a little something extra: I shared this video clip from my recital with my Facebook friends, but I thought there might be some of you who aren't on Facebook, who might like to see it. This is from the Schubert "Arpeggione" Sonata in A minor. Allen Baston is the pianist.
October 16, 2015
The Wish List
"Mama," my son, Bubba said. "If you found a bottle on the beach, and there was a genie inside who could grant you wishes, what would they be?"
I thought about that for a nanosecond. "Probably life-long good health and an endless supply of money."
He nodded. "Do you know what I would wish for?"
"What, Bubba?"
"I'd wish for no homework, an endless supply of money, and two more wishes."
Smart boy!
(What would you wish for?)
I thought about that for a nanosecond. "Probably life-long good health and an endless supply of money."
He nodded. "Do you know what I would wish for?"
"What, Bubba?"
"I'd wish for no homework, an endless supply of money, and two more wishes."
Smart boy!
(What would you wish for?)
October 13, 2015
Bubba and the Bean Stock
First, I'd like to say I'm sorry about not posting regularly these past few weeks. I was preparing for my recital, which I had this weekend. It was a lot of fun! Here's a photo for those of you who like pictures:
I'm still going to be sporadic, because I'm working on a lot of writing projects with deadlines fast approaching. I'll do my best to be here whenever I can, though!
Now for the story:
I caught my boy, Bubba dangling his green Krav belt over the balcony rail.
"Dude," I said. "What exactly are you doing?"
"It's a bean stock, Mama. Climb up."
"Seriously, Bubba? It's a Krav belt, and there's no way I'm going to grab that thing while you're holding it, and try to climb up."
He looked at the belt. "No, Mama. You just have to use your imagination. It's a bean stock, and I'm the giant at the top. I can pull you up!"
Right. (I have a great imagination, but I didn't buy that one!)
I'm still going to be sporadic, because I'm working on a lot of writing projects with deadlines fast approaching. I'll do my best to be here whenever I can, though!
Now for the story:
I caught my boy, Bubba dangling his green Krav belt over the balcony rail.
"Dude," I said. "What exactly are you doing?"
"It's a bean stock, Mama. Climb up."
"Seriously, Bubba? It's a Krav belt, and there's no way I'm going to grab that thing while you're holding it, and try to climb up."
He looked at the belt. "No, Mama. You just have to use your imagination. It's a bean stock, and I'm the giant at the top. I can pull you up!"
Right. (I have a great imagination, but I didn't buy that one!)
October 8, 2015
Endless Pocket
Last night, I went for a walk with my son. For him, it's like going on a car ride. He needs things to keep himself entertained. The game he chose for this particular walk was, "guess what's in my pocket."
"Mama," he said, "What's in my pocket?"
"Your hand?"
He grinned. "Yeah. But what else?"
"I have no idea," I said.
"A bottle cap." He pulled it out and showed me.
Two seconds later, he asked again. "What's in my pocket?"
"What?"
"You have to guess."
"Okay. A string?"
"No." He pulled out a small stone. "Guess what else is in my pocket?"
"I don't know? A toy?"
"No." He pulled out a leaf.
The game went on and on. Each time, he'd drop back and pick something up off of the ground to shove in his pocket. Finally, he came up with a tree branch.
"Dude, that did not come out of your pocket," I said.
"How do you know?" he asked. "Maybe I have never-ending pockets!"
Before I go, I want to let you know that there's a nice review of my book, Ten Zany Birds on the blog, Mommy Wants to Read If you'd like to check it out, please hop over.
"Mama," he said, "What's in my pocket?"
"Your hand?"
He grinned. "Yeah. But what else?"
"I have no idea," I said.
"A bottle cap." He pulled it out and showed me.
Two seconds later, he asked again. "What's in my pocket?"
"What?"
"You have to guess."
"Okay. A string?"
"No." He pulled out a small stone. "Guess what else is in my pocket?"
"I don't know? A toy?"
"No." He pulled out a leaf.
The game went on and on. Each time, he'd drop back and pick something up off of the ground to shove in his pocket. Finally, he came up with a tree branch.
"Dude, that did not come out of your pocket," I said.
"How do you know?" he asked. "Maybe I have never-ending pockets!"
Before I go, I want to let you know that there's a nice review of my book, Ten Zany Birds on the blog, Mommy Wants to Read If you'd like to check it out, please hop over.
October 6, 2015
Watermelon Experiment and Question of the Month
Before I begin my story, I'll do the question of the month, hosted by Michael D'Agostino.
The question of the month is, "If an actor were to portray you in a movie, who would it be?"
Answer: Well, I couldn't make up my mind, but it would be one of these two ladies:
In case you don't recognize them, the top is Anne Hathaway, and the bottom is Anna Kendrick. My blog friend, Janie Junebug once commented that Anne Hathaway would be a good selection to portray me in a movie. She's probably right, because she's always right. My daughter says my personality is exactly like Anna Kendrick. She could be right. But I'm not going to say that she's always right. I do get a little feisty at times. Either one of these woman would do a great job in playing me. (I wonder if either of them would be willing to jump out of an airplane!)
Now for the story:
You may recall that my daughter was having a birthday party in which she was going to explode some watermelons using rubber bands. The explosions happened, but not the way we had planned.
The girls tried the rubber bands with one of the melons. Unfortunately, my boy, Bubba, did some writing on the rind with a knife, which compromised the experiment. Air was allowed to seep through the knife scoring, thereby not allowing enough pressure to build. The girls found another way: They smashed the watermelon by throwing it on the ground.
Experiment two: This was with a smaller melon. At 245 rubber bands, nothing was happening. They decided that rubber bands didn't work, so they found another way - using an air compressor. They rolled the compressor out to the driveway and hooked it up to an inflator needle for bike tires. They then inserted the needle into the watermelon and turned the compressor on. After about 3 minutes, the melon exploded.
I explained that it took over four hundred rubber bands to do the trick. I asked if they wanted to try doing it the proper way with another melon.
"No way, Mom! That takes too long. We'll explode it with the air compressor!"
Which is exactly what they did. I guess that's the way it is in a world of instant gratification!
The question of the month is, "If an actor were to portray you in a movie, who would it be?"
Answer: Well, I couldn't make up my mind, but it would be one of these two ladies:
In case you don't recognize them, the top is Anne Hathaway, and the bottom is Anna Kendrick. My blog friend, Janie Junebug once commented that Anne Hathaway would be a good selection to portray me in a movie. She's probably right, because she's always right. My daughter says my personality is exactly like Anna Kendrick. She could be right. But I'm not going to say that she's always right. I do get a little feisty at times. Either one of these woman would do a great job in playing me. (I wonder if either of them would be willing to jump out of an airplane!)
Now for the story:
You may recall that my daughter was having a birthday party in which she was going to explode some watermelons using rubber bands. The explosions happened, but not the way we had planned.
The girls tried the rubber bands with one of the melons. Unfortunately, my boy, Bubba, did some writing on the rind with a knife, which compromised the experiment. Air was allowed to seep through the knife scoring, thereby not allowing enough pressure to build. The girls found another way: They smashed the watermelon by throwing it on the ground.
Experiment two: This was with a smaller melon. At 245 rubber bands, nothing was happening. They decided that rubber bands didn't work, so they found another way - using an air compressor. They rolled the compressor out to the driveway and hooked it up to an inflator needle for bike tires. They then inserted the needle into the watermelon and turned the compressor on. After about 3 minutes, the melon exploded.
I explained that it took over four hundred rubber bands to do the trick. I asked if they wanted to try doing it the proper way with another melon.
"No way, Mom! That takes too long. We'll explode it with the air compressor!"
Which is exactly what they did. I guess that's the way it is in a world of instant gratification!
October 2, 2015
Exploding Watermelons
My teenage daughter is having a birthday party this weekend. She gave me a list of things she wants for it. At the top of the list was watermelons.
"You're going to eat watermelon?" I asked.
"Yeah, but first we're going to explode it."
"What?" I couldn't wait to hear what kind of ridiculous thing she had planned.
"Make sure you get a whole watermelon. And rubber bands. We're going to wrap rubber bands around the watermelon and watch it explode. It'll be cool."
And messy.
So, ladies and gentlemen, what I will be doing this weekend is watching a bunch of teenagers explode watermelons. If you'd like to see one for yourself, here's a video:
"You're going to eat watermelon?" I asked.
"Yeah, but first we're going to explode it."
"What?" I couldn't wait to hear what kind of ridiculous thing she had planned.
"Make sure you get a whole watermelon. And rubber bands. We're going to wrap rubber bands around the watermelon and watch it explode. It'll be cool."
And messy.
So, ladies and gentlemen, what I will be doing this weekend is watching a bunch of teenagers explode watermelons. If you'd like to see one for yourself, here's a video:
September 30, 2015
Johnny Orangeseed
"Guess what I did, today?" my eleven-year-old son said when he came home from school.
"What did you do?" I couldn't wait to hear this one.
"I planted the orange seeds from the orange you gave me in my lunch."
"You did?" I asked. "I'm not sure they'll grow here. It might get too cold for them in the winter."
"I didn't plant all of them outside," he said. "I planted some inside."
"Where?" I asked.
"In the cafeteria."
"What?" I couldn't imagine where this was going.
"Yeah. The janitor doesn't do a very good job of sweeping, so I made a pile of dirt and garbage with my feet under the table and planted one there."
I tried not to laugh. "Seriously? Don't you think that's going to get swept up?"
He shook his head. "No. It'll be there for at least a year." He continued. "I planted more, too."
"Where, Bubba? In the bathroom?"
He grinned. "How did you guess?"
I shook my head. "It seemed like something you would do. Where in the bathroom did you plant it?"
"I took a paper towel, got it wet, and wrapped the seed inside. Then I put it under the sink. I'm sure the janitor won't see it."
Okay.
(He also planted some seeds outside in the class garden. Any bets on which ones will come up first?)
"What did you do?" I couldn't wait to hear this one.
"I planted the orange seeds from the orange you gave me in my lunch."
"You did?" I asked. "I'm not sure they'll grow here. It might get too cold for them in the winter."
"I didn't plant all of them outside," he said. "I planted some inside."
"Where?" I asked.
"In the cafeteria."
"What?" I couldn't imagine where this was going.
"Yeah. The janitor doesn't do a very good job of sweeping, so I made a pile of dirt and garbage with my feet under the table and planted one there."
I tried not to laugh. "Seriously? Don't you think that's going to get swept up?"
He shook his head. "No. It'll be there for at least a year." He continued. "I planted more, too."
"Where, Bubba? In the bathroom?"
He grinned. "How did you guess?"
I shook my head. "It seemed like something you would do. Where in the bathroom did you plant it?"
"I took a paper towel, got it wet, and wrapped the seed inside. Then I put it under the sink. I'm sure the janitor won't see it."
Okay.
(He also planted some seeds outside in the class garden. Any bets on which ones will come up first?)
September 28, 2015
Pancake Art
"Mom," my teenage daughter said. "Can you make pancakes?"
"Sure," I said. "Are you craving them?"
She shook her head. "No. I want to make pancake art."
"What?"
"Pancake art. Everybody is doing it. Here, look at these pictures." She rolled through her Instagram photos and showed me all kinds of artistic pancake "carvings" her friends had made. They were impressive.
"Okay," I said. "But when you're done playing with your food, are you going to eat it?"
"No. Carbs aren't good for you."
Right.
In case you want to see a sample of pancake art, here's a picture:
"Sure," I said. "Are you craving them?"
She shook her head. "No. I want to make pancake art."
"What?"
"Pancake art. Everybody is doing it. Here, look at these pictures." She rolled through her Instagram photos and showed me all kinds of artistic pancake "carvings" her friends had made. They were impressive.
"Okay," I said. "But when you're done playing with your food, are you going to eat it?"
"No. Carbs aren't good for you."
Right.
In case you want to see a sample of pancake art, here's a picture:
September 24, 2015
The Hungry Lunch Box
My boy came home from school and tossed his lunch box on the counter. I opened it to clean it and prepare for the next day's lunch. What I saw inside was disgusting.
"Dude," I said. "Why do you have to leave half-eaten sandwiches and fruit in here? Can't you just toss uneaten things in the garbage?"
He shook his head. "No, Mama. The lunch box told me it was hungry. I'm just sharing my food so it doesn't have to starve."
Oy. I think I've heard it all, now!
"Dude," I said. "Why do you have to leave half-eaten sandwiches and fruit in here? Can't you just toss uneaten things in the garbage?"
He shook his head. "No, Mama. The lunch box told me it was hungry. I'm just sharing my food so it doesn't have to starve."
Oy. I think I've heard it all, now!
September 21, 2015
Pickle Craving
The other day, I caught my eleven-year-old son sitting at the kitchen table. He had a jar of pickles in front of him. The boy was eating the pickles.
I sat down next to him and watched. The kid literally ate four pickle spears while I was sitting there. When he was done, there were two pickles remaining.
"Dude, how many pickles did you just eat?" I asked.
He shrugged. "It was a new jar, so just about all of them."
I calculated that there were eight pickle spears in each jar. Bubba had eaten six of them.
"You ate six pickles?"
"Yeah. They were good. McClure's pickles are the best! Can you get more when you go to the store?"
Oy! (At least he's a boy, so I know he's not pregnant!)
Before I go, I just want to say I'm going to be a little sporadic about posting for a while (in case you haven't noticed). I'm writing pieces for two anthologies, and I'm also preparing for a viola recital in a few weeks (in addition to my usual insanity.) If you're in the Atlanta, Georgia area, I invite you to come and hear me play. Here's the information:
I sat down next to him and watched. The kid literally ate four pickle spears while I was sitting there. When he was done, there were two pickles remaining.
"Dude, how many pickles did you just eat?" I asked.
He shrugged. "It was a new jar, so just about all of them."
I calculated that there were eight pickle spears in each jar. Bubba had eaten six of them.
"You ate six pickles?"
"Yeah. They were good. McClure's pickles are the best! Can you get more when you go to the store?"
Oy! (At least he's a boy, so I know he's not pregnant!)
Before I go, I just want to say I'm going to be a little sporadic about posting for a while (in case you haven't noticed). I'm writing pieces for two anthologies, and I'm also preparing for a viola recital in a few weeks (in addition to my usual insanity.) If you're in the Atlanta, Georgia area, I invite you to come and hear me play. Here's the information:
