donnagus1

I've been tagged . . . or "How weird are you, anyway?"

My LilSis is playing tag with me, and I’m it. OK, here’s what I’m understanding about this. Someone tagged her, and she listed 7 weird things about herself on her blog, and then she tagged some other weirdos or nerds (depending on how you look at it) to do the same.

She tagged our BigSis, are you going to respond, BigSis? Don’t get me wrong, I’m neither weird nor nerdy, so I had to ask to be included in this game!

So here goes my attempt at trying to come up with (read: make up) 7 weird things about myself.

donnagus.jpg1) Just like LilSis, my nose runs when I eat. Yes, it is weird, but I can’t claim this as an original weirdness because I inherited this trait from my mom. She loved parakeets.

2) I am afraid to cut my hair

3) I sometimes guess the number of seconds it will take me to get from where I am to home and then I count them mentally

4) Ideas come to me more when I’m asleep than awake

5) I often wonder what it would be like to have been born someone else

6) I don’t want my grandchildren to call me grandmother, or granny, or grandma, or maw maw, or mamaw, or neenaw, or nanna, or any of those matronly-type names.  So sorry, kids, I just can’t handle it.

7) I keep my toenails looking better than my finger nails

Well, how did I do on the Weirdness Scale of 1-10 with 10 being pretty doggone weird?

Now, I am tagging Trish. Ha! Ha! You thought you were getting out of this, didn’t you? Remember that you have to link to my blog in your 7 Weird Things About Me post!

And to combine this with a quiz I took, here are the results:

You are Marianne Dashwood of Sense & Sensibility! You are impulsive, romantic, impatient, and perhaps a bit too brutally honest. You enjoy romantic poetry and novels, and play the pianoforte beautifully. To boot, your singing voice is captivating. You feel deeply, and love passionately.

Except I don’t play the pianoforte. I mean, what is that anyway?

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    We wound our way up a curvy bayou, looking for fishy water, and around the second curve she spotted a fishy-looking current line running from the western bank across the middle of the bayou and around the curve. We drifted in, and not long after she slung her bright yellow popping cork, it disappeared below the surface.

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    We continued to pull in fish every few minutes at that spot until boat traffic scattered the fish, making them too spotty to find. Trolling on up the bayou, we cast around a few points that looked like ideal spots for trout to be hanging out waiting for bait fish. However, none of those spots were as profitable as our first stop.

    Once we traveled to the end of my GPS bread crumb line and farther than I had ever explored before, we tested the waters. Nothing. We looked for cuts in the marsh, where the bait-filled water flowed into the bayou, carrying the unsuspecting bait to the bigger fish that awaited. We fished a couple of those spots without much luck.

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5 Comments

  1. Your wish is my command!

    A pianoforte is really just a piano, I think.

    Trish

    I should ask my oh-so-talented-daughter who has a Master’s of Music in Piano Performance. Think she’d know?

  2. Hair grows… Cut away!
    About the seconds counting, I used to count the steps I would take. I really had to work to kill that tick.

  3. Why is that you don’t want to cut your hair? What exactly do you want your grandchildren to call you? My nephews and nieces call me by my first name.

    Well, when I say “cut” I mean no longer wearing it long. Cut, as in a shorter hairstyle that would take years to grow back out if I didn’t like it. Every time I’ve cut my hair shoulder length or shorter, I end up just growing it back out again. It’s a continuing cycle. At this age, though, I am scared to cut it short for fear it will never grow again, and I’ll be stuck with short ugly hair!

    And I think my grandchildren (which I don’t even have yet) will call me “Winnie”. Just leave off the ” the pooh” part!!!