Who's JIM?

Warning: this post will likely be neither edifying nor an example of virtue, but if you would like to hear some of my candid thoughts, this is the place.

Pet peeves are sometimes funny.

I recently discovered a pet peeve of mine. I realized i was having this discovery while i was nearly yelling at a professional/customer service type person on the phone.

My husband, James, and i recently applied for the services of a particular company. The service details don't matter; what does matter is that the personnel associated with said company had in front of him all of my and my husband's vital information, including full name and so forth.

The other evening, the phone rang, and i answered.

me: Hello

other person: Hello, this is so-n-so with such-n-such company, calling about blah blah blah. It seem there was a misunderstanding in regard to Jim's whatever.

me: his name is James. there was no misunderstanding; i spoke with so-n-so and also with so-n-so, and we're going to do such-n-such.

other person: oh, so you want to blah blah for Jim's whatever?

me: (demanding tone) who's JIM?

other person: PAUSE, then (with confidence) your husband.

me: (with authority) his name is JAMES.

other person: oh. well, i'll talk with so-n-so about such-n-such and we'll take care of whatever, and i'll be sure to put a note in your husband's file that he prefers to be called James.

me: (with giant incredulous look on my face that other person, of course, could not see) THANK YOU!

The following commentary is a rant that i chose to share with whoever's reading. It is not directed to any particular individual or meant to offend any person or group of persons.


Let me be clear. If you do not know my name, and you are provided my name on a piece of paper, it is recommended that you avoid calling me by some other name or by some name loosely associated with that name or by some name that other people with my name also enjoy being called until you are given clear instruction by owner of said name or associate of said name owner to do so.

This is really very simple.

It is blatantly rude to do otherwise.

The ironic thing to me is this.

Personal example:

My given name is Lisbeth.

I like my name very much; however Americans will inevitably mispronounce those two little syllables. I don't blame them. I can see how hard it must be to not add invisible syllables to my name, but the habit is, nonetheless, annoying. (And something about answering to names that aren't actually my name gives me the willies like i'm impersonating someone or something.) Therefore i, as my parents did before me, (and still do) call myself Beth.

I also like the name Beth, and it is almost never, if ever, mispronounced. And if (which has actually been the case once or twice) you are physically unable to pronounce Beth correctly, i'm o.k. with it. Just don't call me Breath or something.

But when i'm on the phone with some official type person who has privy to my written full name, and they call me Luspith or Lizabith, or Elizabith or Elsbeth or is-this-spelled-right?, i am happy to have mercy on said telephone person by saying, "you can call me Beth." I will also, if space is provided, have written the name, "Beth," on whatever writing material has been provided to me for the purpose of giving my valuable personal information to said official person.

Will said official person call me Beth? no, if history repeats itself, probably not.

But they'll call James, Jim - sure as you're sittin' there reading this rant.

(end rant)

Attention Chicken Lovers

If you are interested in the chicken aspect of my life, i would like to redirect you to Chicken Chat.

I will be putting my chicken updates over there on a little cooperative blog between myself and a few local chicken loving friends.

There's also a great chicken short story over there that is very fun reading. It's called Little Cowboy's Big Adventure.

Check it out.

Could you pick my cartoon out of a lineup?

I keep seeing this advertisement for mywebface.com that claims you can create a cartoon picture of yourself. The advertisement shows real-life photos next to their cartoon recreations that are spitting images.

So, i was a little "off task" this evening and decided to give it a shot.

I really really spent some time trying to find the right mouth and the right nose...all the just right matching facial features. It lets you change the position of the facial features, make them bigger or smaller and so on. It is very versatile considering. But, can you pick my cartoon out of a line-up? I doubt it.

A couple of notes.....if you're a plus sized woman, you get your choice of exactly one outfit. It's an empire waist dress, with tights and baby doll shoes (or that's what i call them). Thankfully, i could crop out that horrible outfit. The actual shape of the face just barely changed between options, and adding a double chin wasn't in there. So i did the best i could. I think i actually found my nose though. The rest i wasn't sure about.

Just for fun...whadya think?

Happy Father's Day!

This is me.

I'm pretty sure i was two.

I'm wearing my Daddy's sun glasses, my Daddy's cowboy hat, and my Daddy's Cowboy boots (with my pink flower shorts and matching red and blue tank of course).

Do you know why?

Because my Daddy is the coolest, biggest, strongest, most caring, smartest, wonderful daddy in the whole wide world.
























I love you Daddy!
Happy Father's Day!

Four Score and 17 Years from Last Tuesday

Most recently, i might have led you to expect some entertaining chicken adventures to be told in the near future. And in truth, i did intend to tell you some. But sometimes, present adventures take precedence over formerly entertaining adventures, and the latter lose their vigor. Or something like that.

In the past week, i have lost 3 of my six chickens, to predators who were given easy advance by our lack of preparation.

We believe the evil cowardly woodland creatures to be raccoons, for whom i no longer have any affection. Two of our birds, Rosie and Renegade, were taken without any sign of a struggle sometime Thursday night. The third, Hawkeye, was attacked Friday night. It seemed possible that she might beat the odds and overcome her injury, but today it became apparent that she would not get better but worse, and we had to "let her go."


Sorry to be so cryptic. I'm feeling sort of cryptic.

So anyway, my former adventures that i planned to tell you are not so entertaining to me now.

I do have an enjoyable bit.

This weekend, we acquired a new-to-us vehicle for a nearly unbeatable price, and my remaining 3 beauties, Daisy, Daffodil, and Genovieve, have taken to roosting on the windshield wipers in the evening.

Now, when we look outside in the evening, around dusk, we see two unusual sights, our new truck, and 3 chickens making it home.