Gregory’s Summer Bible School: Gideon Gets Peeved

Welcome Dear Readers to Gregory’s Summer Bible School.  This summer Gregory will be learning all about Gideon.

Let’s listen in and see what Gregory has learned about Gideon so far:

One day, shortly after the Israelites got back from the excitement of  battling Canaanites and cutting off the big toes and thumbs of  seventy kings, they were experiencing a lull so, not knowing what else to do with themselves,  they decided to do what they always did when they were bored — sin against the Lord.

So naturally the Lord had no choice but to have the mean, nasty, overweight Midianites rule over the Israelites for seven years (This was way before the Lord thought of timeouts).

The Midianites were bigger and stronger than the Israelites, who were more on the bookish side and who – aside from their large collection of big toes and thumbs, were not really all that aggressive.

So the Israelites spent a lot of time hiding from the Midianites in caves by day and tip toeing around by night planting their crops and tending to their cattle so as not to wake up the Midianites who were light sleepers.

But invariably some poor Israelite would sneeze too loudly and the Midianites would wake up, and come down from the hills on their camels.

The bible says there were so many Midianites that they and their camels couldn’t be counted, but most scholars believe this is simply because they wouldn’t hold still long enough.

Anyway, the Midianites would wreak havoc on the Israelites by trampling their crops, tipping their cows, messing up their hairdos and giving them all robe wedgies.

The Israelites cried out to the Lord, and the Lord,  who was wondering when they were going to cry out, sent them a prophet who came to them with a  message from the Lord.

The first part of the Lord’s message recapped what the Lord’s big accomplishments had been thus far which, of course, included bringing the Israelites out of Egypt, and freeing them from slavery. But the Lord never mentioned the parting of the Red Sea as He wasn’t that big on bragging, but was always secretly hoping someone else would bring that part up.

Then the Messenger of the Lord and Gideon had a conversation that might have sounded something like this but probably didn’t:

Messenger of the Lord:  Say, Gideon, would you mind if I sat down under this tree in Ophrah that belonged to your dad, Joash, from Abiezer’s family?

Gideon:  Sure, but how did you know all that?

MOTL:  I read the tree plaque. What are you doing?

Gideon:  I’m threshing wheat in this wine-press so as to confuse the Midianites.

MOTL:  To confuse them how?

Gideon:  Well, this way The Midianites will think I’m making wine when I’m really making flour.

MOTL:  Won’t they just think you are making wine and want to steal that instead?

Gideon:  What are you?  An attorney?

MOTL:  The Lord is with you, brave man.

Gideon:  Well, no offense but I’m a little peeved.

MOTL:  Peeved?  Peeved howeth?

Gideon:  All these horrible things are happening to us.  The stealing of the crops, the cow tipping, the robe wedgies, having to make flour in a wine-press.  What happened to all the Lord’s miracles everybody is always telling me about?

MOTL:  How would you feel if I told you that you will be rescuing Israel with the strength you have?

Gideon:  Yeah right.  Have you seen my muscles lately?  I can’t even tell you how sore I’m going to be tomorrow when I get done wine-pressing all this wheat.  And you think I’m weak, you should see the rest of my family, we once got beat up by a batch of kittens.

MOTL:  Doesn’t matter. You will defeat the Midianites as if they were only one man.

Gideon:  Okay if you say so.  Listen, I’m going to go fix you a snack.  Can you wait here till I get back?

MOTL:  Who moi?  Absotively!

Thank you, Dear Readers, for coming by Summer Bible School with Gregory!  Please check back next week for more of our lesson.

Until next time . . . I love you

I guess I’ll go fix you a snack.”    “Hot Diggity Doggeth!”

Edgar Allan Poe Cheery Living Magazine

Welcome Dear Readers!  I am so excited! As you may know, from time to time this blog takes it upon itself  to attempt to cheer up American Literature’s most Gloomy Gus, Edgar Allan Poe.  And in that light, I feel this blog is making a little progress.   Check out Edgar Allan Poe’s new magazine!

 

Cheering up Edgar Allan Poe, Linda Vernon Humor

WE can only hope, Dear Readers, that this his new positive attitude has staying power!

 

Until next time . . . I love you

Gregory’s Bible Stories: Eve’s Killer Apple Pie

Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories. Today Gregory learned about how it came about that Eve served Adam the fruit from The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Let’s listen in as Gregory tells us how it all happened.

gregory

One day shortly after God created Adam and Eve and left them to their own devices in the Garden of Eden, Eve said to Adam:

“What’s the matter, honey?  Is all the yard work getting you down again?”

“Well, the garden is a beautiful place and I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I would have been just as happy with a paradise that didn’t have such a big yard.  All this tilling is aggravating my old rib-cage injury something awful.  Can you get me an ice pack?”

“Are you trying to make me feel guilty again?”

“No  honey.  I’m just stating a fact. Part of me wishes God would have creatd the Condo of Eden instead of the Garden of Eden, that’s all.”

“Well, how about I cook you up your favorite dinner? That will cheer you up.”

“Goat Noodle Casserole?”

“That’s your favorite dinner?  I thought it was goatloaf?”

“Listen honey, no offense but your goatloaf is a little dry. ”

“God liked it.”

“Did He tell you that?”

“No, I could just tell by the way his face lit up like a thousands suns when he ate it.”

“No offense, honey, but that’s pretty much His resting face.”

“Why are you being such a brat?”

“I’m sorry.  I don’t mean to be.  Tell you what.  Why don’t you bake me a nice pie for dessert.”

“Okay!  How about my famous Fig Leaf Pie?”

“Well, honey . . . uh . . .  frankly, your Fig Leaf Pie is only famous because it’s so dry.”

“Did God tell you that?”

“Yes.”

“Well! That makes me not want to invite God over for dinner anymore.”

“Don’t be mad honey.  You know what?  I heard that a fruit called the apple makes a pretty good pie.”

“Who told you that?”

“I don’t remember exactly.  I think it was one of those creeping things that creepeth upon the earth.”

“And it could talk?”

“Non-stop!”

“Okay, well you stay here and rest your side, Adam, and I’ll go out and have a talk with this creeping thing and see if it will show me where the apple tree is.”

“Uh . . Okay but seems to me it wasn’t called an apple tree though.”

“Oh really?  What was it called?”

“The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.”

“That’s unnecessarily long.  I’m just going to call it the apple tree.  If you need me I’ll be out picking apples . . .”

“Okay honey.  Have fun!  Oh and before you go would you mind grabbing me an ice pack on your way out?”

“Yeah sure.”

“. . . and a Bud Light?”

“Yeah sure.”

And that concludes Gregory’s bible stories for this week, Dear Readers.  Please check back next week for the further adventures of all the people in the bible.

Until next time . . . I love you

PIE-FOR-ADAM
Eve’s Killer Apple Pie

Eve’s Killer Apple Pie

8 apples from The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil

1/2  bushel goat butter

I beehive honey

2/3 shekel cinnamon

Preheat flames to medium roar

Cook until sunset

Serves:  0 to 3 (depending on dryness)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What

 

 

My Brain, Peanuts, Remembers The City Pool

 

Waitsburg City Pool or Gawdawful like it
The Waitsburg city pool (or gawdawful like it)

 

A Swimming Pool Fool

When I was a little girl, I was a swimming fool even though the pool in our little town left a lot to be desired.  First of all, it wasn’t heated or filtered so they had to drain it every week and refill it with water they piped in from the South Pole.  Not being a filtered pool, you’d think we would have all gotten a horrible disease like typhoid fever, leprosy or at the very least, Polio, but the water was either too cold to sustain microbial life or nobody could ever stay in long enough to catch anything.

The Magic of Turning Nine

Until I was in the fourth grade, all my summer mornings were spent begging and pleading with my mother to take me to the swimming pool.  But when I turned nine, she decided I was old enough to go to the city pool on my own. So every morning I’d get up and kill time by playing hide and seek with the neighborhood kids until the magical hour of 1:00 o’clock when the city pool opened.  My mother would fix me a tuna sandwich and make me wait half an hour before I could head out to the pool lest I get a cramp and drown. For some reason known only to 1950-ites, the most dangerous thing a person could do in the fifties would be to down a tuna sandwich and then dive directly into a body of water.  You would get a cramp and you would drown.  Period.  End of story.

leading cause of drowning in the 50's
Leading cause of drowning 1950-style

The Art of Towel Rolling

The towel you brought to the swimming pool said a lot about how well your parents had their acts together. The parents who had their acts totally together bought their children their own beach towels every summer with a cute picture of a whale or a beach umbrella emblazoned across its front.  Other parents who didn’t have their acts quite as together didn’t mind if their child brought whatever towel happened to be hanging on the towel rack that day.  And then there were the  parents who didn’t have their acts together at all.  These were the parents who were big believers in sun-dried kids.

My parents fell into the middle category.  I would take some dingy towel off the towel rack everyday and fold it in half length-wise and roll my swimming suit up in it.  Then I would put on my thongs (which is the fifties speak for flip-flops)  and I’d head out across town to the city pool to join the small group of children who were also addicted to the swimming pool as much as I was.

The Regulars

Looking back on it now, there were about five of us who came every single day without fail.   Most of them were sun-dried kids and for a while I forsook my towel to fit in.  (I’d tell you their names but I’m not sure they had any.)  Anyway, we would simply find a dry spot on the cement and lay there until we got hot enough to brave the frigid waters of Antarctica for another ten minutes of splish-splashing hypothermia.

Jackknifes, Cannonballs and Cutaways

Most of my activity at the pool was waiting in line to go off the diving board.  My  ‘go to’ dive was a jackknife.  My friend, Susan Weber, was a whiz at a dive called the cutaway. While us girls worked on our dives, the boys were perfecting their cannonballs — a dive that never made any sense to me because why make a big splash if you can’t see it?  But I do remember the boys who were a little on the hefty side being much better at the cannonball than their skinnier counterparts.

After Swimming Hunger

I have never been hungrier than I was in the fifties.  Being a kid lends itself to a lot of hunger.  The hunger you feel from only eating one bite of breakfast before school and counting the seconds until lunch.  The hunger you feel after waiting for lunch to find that you are too finicky to eat hamburger gravy and sandy butter sandwiches. And then there’s the  hunger you feel after school from being too picky to eat a decent breakfast and lunch.

Seven Bowls of Cheerios

But the hunger I felt after swimming all afternoon in the city pool beats them all. It’s the kind of hunger that only seven bowls of Cheerios swimming in a soup of sugary milk can satisfy.  Sitting at the kitchen table, eating Cheerios with the late afternoon sun pouring through the window and knowing that after you finish your last bowl, the Three Stooges will be on.  Does life get any better than that?

I think not.

Cheerios from the 1950's

Until next time . . . I love you

37, Me and The Big D

Welcome Dear Readers to Linda Vernon Humor 2.0!  

Oh happy day! The time has come to start writing again.   The main thing that has happened to me since I last wrote, 1016 days ago, is that I am now divorced from my husband of 40 years who I always referred to on this blog as 37.

You can read about 37 and all the fun we used to have here if you’re curious (but I wouldn’t bother if I were you).

So why did 37 and I get a divorce?

I’ll spare you the gory details, because I honestly don’t know them.  Suffice it to say, it was a mighty big surprise to me when 37 came home from work one night and sat me down and explained he didn’t want to be married anymore. I can’t even remember what he said.  I only remember his explanation didn’t make much sense.  But he wrapped it up in 40 minutes before he left to go to a hotel — so one minute for every year we were married.  I don’t know if he planned it that way, but he is an engineer, and they are known for being precise.

You can read about 37 being an engineer here (but I wouldn’t bother if I were you).

 37 dropped off the face of the planet and is now rumored to be living on the planet’s neck and shoulders (or possibly lower)

I’ve only seen 37 a couple of times since he left.  It’s all very unreal, Dear Readers, and it has taken me 1016 days to get my bearings figured out. (I was a D student in bearings class.) But I’m happy to report that I have decided to have a ball with the rest of my life anyway and that includes writing humor. Because I’ve found that it’s hard to be depressed when you are trying to think up funny stuff.

Divorce Helpful Hints

So what have I learned from going through a divorce after 40 years of marriage?  I’ve learned how to go out on dates.  I’ve learned how to drive places I normally would have never dreamed of driving. I’ve learned how to  open a jar pickles with my own strength.  Okay not really.  But I have learned not to buy pickles anymore. I’ve learned that it’s nice not to have a man in the house who eats  all the potato chips before you get any and much more which I will write about from time to time.

Anyway, thank you for coming to check out Linda Vernon Humor 2.0.  And I look forward to connecting with all of you!

Until next time . . . I love you

 

 

My Most Popular Posts: Pottery Barn Activity Center

Just when you think life has dulled itself down to a stub,  the new Pottery Barn Catalog arrives! Talk about reigniting your passion for living!

Oh Goodie Goodie Gumdrops! Let us rub our collective hands together and start our Pottery Barn discussion with:

The Pottery Barn Activity Center

Clearly Pottery Barn is trying to get us to be a little more constructive in our spare time. To that end, PB has designed this (get a life) activity center. As you can see from the picture, Pottery Barn feels passionately that thread is the KEY FACTOR when it comes to any activity.

What is PB trying to say?

Perhaps The Potter Barn Activity Center is PB’s polite way of telling us that we need to get off our collective squishy bums and start actively LIVING LIFE before Father Time pokes us with a fork, we’re done.

As Dorothy Parker once said, “There will be plenty of time to do nothing once we’re dead.”

Therefore it is imperative that you buy yourself a Pottery Barn Activity Center right this very minute!  Don’t just say, “Oh I’ll  actively fiddle with thread tomorrow.”  What if you don’t make it to tomorrow.  Huh?  Then what?

As Andy Dufresne once said, “Get Busy Livin’ or Get Busy Dyin” . . .  You’re call Dear Readers!

PB wants to know how you would like being on your deathbed never having experienced the activities in their beautiful Activity Center.  So stop wasting time and start flipping through that old Botany notebook ASAP, reread those old postcards, pronto!  Don’t just sit there!  Time’s a wastin’ — for heaven’s sakes at least PUT A CLAMP ON SOMETHING!

Yeah, The Pottery Barn Activity Center is $129.  So What?

Pottery Barn is asking you nicely not to let the $129 price tag deter you from buying their super-duper-essential Pottery Barn Activity Center.  If Pottery Barn has implored you once, they’ve implored you a thousand times not to nickel and dime yourself out of your one true chance at happiness.

Now, stop arguing and go get your purse or wallet and march yourself down to Pottery Barn . . . Ten Hut!

Oh . . . and since you’re going there anyway . . . PB wants to know if you’ve got 44 extra bucks lying around in, say, your garbage can?

If you answered yes, PB wants you to know they have devised  a much more stylish way for you to throw away your money.

And that is by purchasing this One-of-a-Kind, Giant-Fork, Paper-Towel Holder:

The Cucina Paper Towel Holder

The PB Catalog describes this item simply as a Cucina Paper Towel Holder hoping you won’t know what “Cucina” means and will be too lazy to look it up.

Pottery Barn is hoping you will assume “Cucina” means sustainable, recycled, eco-friendly, soy-based, dolphin-free materials hewn by a mystical enclave of  Mastercrafters headquartered in a barn made of pottery deep in the secret sustainable forests that Pottery Barn and Pottery Barn only has dibs on.

TO RECAP:  if tree falls in the sustainable forest?  Back off!  It belongs to Pottery Barn!

Oh, and a word of caution about the Cucina, Giant-Fork Paper Towel Holder.  If Father Time happens to drop by– be sure to hide this paper towel holder quickly.  He gets weird around forks.

Until next time . . . I love you (especially you, Pottery Barn!)

Hey Lookie! Hitler’s Got a Logo

Welcome Dear Readers to my video series called Magazines with Linda.  Join me won’t you as we flip through a magazine from 1931.

 

Until next time, I love you