One of my goals for 2009 has been to catch up the chronicles and add stories from Little Bits, my collection of stories about the girls.
This week has been impossible with a lengthy staff planning day on Monday( I refuse to call it a retreat, even though it is a treat to have all of the staff together at one time), a funeral, and a bit of church chick being hit with underweatherness.
So, just so it counts, I'm listing a few thoughts here for you.
I enjoy listening to the internet mystery radio station, as you know, and this week, I have jotted down some of the titles:
Suspense
Murder at Midnight ( MURder at MID night is how the announcer says it)
Mysterious Traveler
X X X X X X x x x x minus One One ONe
Dragnet
Lights Out!
The creaking Door
Criminal Codes.
I also heard a delightful commercial for Lifeboy soap- Use Lifeboy so they won't whisper, "B.O." when you pass by. I found that hysterical.
My pals have a few interesting blips they speak that I like alot
"Life's too short for cheap chocolate"
"Do it pepperfied"
"Sometimes in life you have to stop and shake your caboose."
I also learned how to knit two socks at one time and about half way through the leg, I realized that I really don't LIKE doing two at once, so I just moved one sock over to it's own needles, and now I'm knitting one and two at my leisure. It is more peaceful for me, but I'm glad I could do it if I wanted to. I just didn't find the magic. What can I say? I still may try Magic Loop sometime if I need a new challenge.
I felted a sock and hope i can get it online. It was fun, because I just knitted a baby sock, took about half an hour, then I washed it and it shrunk right on key. I thought about using it as an ornament, then decided it might make a cute necklace for your chapstick or cell phone. I thought as an ornament, it might look cute hanging on a tree with a card that says "Life socks"
I really want to do mini sweaters. The gnome who looks out my doorway has a beard that can't compete with these frigid temps. We'll see.
me
That's all I've got today, this week.
Baby, it's Cold outside, woo hoo. For me, cold and dry is better than cold and wet. Cabrio isn't telling what it will show and tell when it snows. I'll keep you posted.
Showing posts with label mystery radio. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mystery radio. Show all posts
Friday, January 16, 2009
Friday, November 02, 2007
The season approaches
Oh, my. My fingers are soooo itching to show and tell. 24 hours in a day is not long enough during this season to give me that luxury of typing about my days here. It makes me sad in my heart because I so love to share the mystery and magic of being in this job, and of late, my stories seem to have expanded somewhat outside these church walls.with no noticeable complaints from readers. whew. How tolerant you are, my friends, how truly tolerant. Thank you.
More and more, my mystery internet radio station fits the activity around here. It adds levity when there is none to be found, and it gives me something to smile about when I'm running short on smileabouts. I've been told that in the dead of night, when no living being dare be wandering the halls, the radio still tells the tales of woe, murder and mahem. A fun friend enlightened me to this this week. On occassion she comes in late and when she enters my office, it sounds as if Dick Tracy himself has returned from his grave to solve this or that.
She suggested that it made for a very effective security tool. Think I'll stick with that.
A miracle occured today, or maybe it was a "This is exactly why" moment. I wonder still, why these kind hearted souls continue to allow me to come in day after day and play office. Yes, my responsibilities have grown in abundance, but my demeanor has not changed much. I still use voice activated live action intercom most days, instead of ATT&T, and I continue to plug in my Christmas lights in my office. I keep candy and gum handy. and I file a different way every day. Fortunately, I leave myself notes, and my next door neighbor has grown accustomed to my meandering methods, so we don't lose too many things. Still,professionality is not my forte.
Anyway, you may wonder on occassion, why my insecurities persist after now, 3 years. Yes, 3 years. I've made it through teething and potty training. whew. Well, here's a perfect example.
My boss has been pastoring for 25 years + ( I figure he prayed while he was swimming his way into the world, as well) He collects publications like the bullitens, newsletters, etc... For all those years. There are volumes of notebooks in his office that span that period. Think about it.
Bottom line is this. That is a lot- a LOT of paper!!. So, this week, when I was asked how long someone had been working in their job, or this and that yada yada, before I could email the business administrator, my boss had flown across to his office and in the twinkling of an eye, returned to my desk with one of the aforementioned volumes. Not just one. But one in particular. Like Moses' parting (with a little help) of the Red Sea, that book fell open and my boss's fingers did the walking through those yellowed pages and lo! the voice of my brilliant boss cried out!!! "Here is is. ........."
Okay. I stopped typing my inquiry. My fingers refused to continue. My head dropped and i felt my eyes slide left, searching for the source of the exclamation. My eyes found his fingers, holding the page open, then they followed up the hand and arm and eventually met his eyes.
His brightness paused. " What? What's wrong? It's right here. What we were looking for. It's here in this newsletter." I remained still, yet focused. .....then I blinked.
" and you wonder WHY I worry that i won't live up ?? oh, for heaven's sake. I haven't got a chance in hell if you're going to pull stuff like that. " This, I said to my boss. My boss who performed a modern day miracle in my very office.
The real miracle is that he let me come back to work the next day. Take that, Moses.
More and more, my mystery internet radio station fits the activity around here. It adds levity when there is none to be found, and it gives me something to smile about when I'm running short on smileabouts. I've been told that in the dead of night, when no living being dare be wandering the halls, the radio still tells the tales of woe, murder and mahem. A fun friend enlightened me to this this week. On occassion she comes in late and when she enters my office, it sounds as if Dick Tracy himself has returned from his grave to solve this or that.
She suggested that it made for a very effective security tool. Think I'll stick with that.
A miracle occured today, or maybe it was a "This is exactly why" moment. I wonder still, why these kind hearted souls continue to allow me to come in day after day and play office. Yes, my responsibilities have grown in abundance, but my demeanor has not changed much. I still use voice activated live action intercom most days, instead of ATT&T, and I continue to plug in my Christmas lights in my office. I keep candy and gum handy. and I file a different way every day. Fortunately, I leave myself notes, and my next door neighbor has grown accustomed to my meandering methods, so we don't lose too many things. Still,professionality is not my forte.
Anyway, you may wonder on occassion, why my insecurities persist after now, 3 years. Yes, 3 years. I've made it through teething and potty training. whew. Well, here's a perfect example.
My boss has been pastoring for 25 years + ( I figure he prayed while he was swimming his way into the world, as well) He collects publications like the bullitens, newsletters, etc... For all those years. There are volumes of notebooks in his office that span that period. Think about it.
Bottom line is this. That is a lot- a LOT of paper!!. So, this week, when I was asked how long someone had been working in their job, or this and that yada yada, before I could email the business administrator, my boss had flown across to his office and in the twinkling of an eye, returned to my desk with one of the aforementioned volumes. Not just one. But one in particular. Like Moses' parting (with a little help) of the Red Sea, that book fell open and my boss's fingers did the walking through those yellowed pages and lo! the voice of my brilliant boss cried out!!! "Here is is. ........."
Okay. I stopped typing my inquiry. My fingers refused to continue. My head dropped and i felt my eyes slide left, searching for the source of the exclamation. My eyes found his fingers, holding the page open, then they followed up the hand and arm and eventually met his eyes.
His brightness paused. " What? What's wrong? It's right here. What we were looking for. It's here in this newsletter." I remained still, yet focused. .....then I blinked.
" and you wonder WHY I worry that i won't live up ?? oh, for heaven's sake. I haven't got a chance in hell if you're going to pull stuff like that. " This, I said to my boss. My boss who performed a modern day miracle in my very office.
The real miracle is that he let me come back to work the next day. Take that, Moses.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Mystery Radio lines
No time for much, but I heard a great line this am on my favorite radio station:
"Start that 'I told you so' business and so help me- I'll make you wish you took the trash out".
"Start that 'I told you so' business and so help me- I'll make you wish you took the trash out".
Thursday, March 22, 2007
radio chat
Radio chat
My favorite radio station is the Mystery Radio. I think I wrote of this, I’ll check later to see.
I have started keeping jottings of phrases that catch my attention through the day.
“You died. Stay dead”
“ You know me, we were separated by surgery”
“Don’t try to move, dear, I will have to kill you”
“Oh Chuck, I knew something was wrong here, I knew it. I knew it in my heart”
“Billy, Billy why are you laughing like that? “
“Just say to the druggist, a bottle of ironized yeast tablets, please?”
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Mystery Radio
OH MY GOSH!! I have found the perfect background for working here. I do not like to work in silence because then, my ongoing thoughts have at it, and well, it’s just a distraction. How bad is that to distract your own self? So, I consider music white noise.
When I am working on numbers, which isn’t often ( smart move) or when I am multi-tasking, I play classical music with no words. It flows from the radio all around the office and out into the hallway and it is a verypleasant smooth time.
When my workload is the mindless repetition tasks that sometimes need to be addressed, then it’s Barry and me or Simon and Garfunkle and me or even Death Cab for Cutie.
Cold and rainy days whine for Billy Holliday.
But there hasn’t really been an answer to the daily grind. Until a few weeks ago.
My oldest daughter, who is a whiz at technology, downloaded I tunes on my computer. I did not feel lightening strike, but I wondered where God was because he surely was guiding Emily’s hands on that day. She opened the door to internet radio for her mom. It was a miracle.
At first, I couldn’t stop changing the channels. Why? Mostly, just because I could. Eventually, I started exploring and I came across this incredible internet station called mystery radio. It is all old radio shows. All day,every day. Commercials included.
Staff were concerned at first. Those who were anti-Manilow were begging me to play Barry. One woman said, “You are living in the past”. Let me assure you I have absolutely no desire to live in the past. Been there, done that. There was something else magical at work here, and it took me not long to figure it out. I noticed right away that it was a perfect fit. I wasn’t sure why for a while. I enjoyed watching others notice something different sounding out in my office. Our organist came in one morning, rushed and tired. He sat in the escape seat ( the huggy chair) and breathed for a minute. His eyes were closed, his head rested in his hands. Then, “What are you listening to?”
I kept typing as if nothing was out of order. “ Well, today we’ve got Loretta Young and Peter Lorre”. Type type type la la la la la la la. "I think they are both dead now, aren’t they?” type type type…….
He looked about as if checking to see if the walls had started to shift or if the floor was beginning to fall away from underneath his feet, then he recovered. “Oh. Okay.” Then, off he went- glad to step back into the hallway of present time I imagine.
I find it interesting that this talk radio does not keep me from working. The closest thing to talk radio is NPR which is so intellectually spicy, I can’t play it and work. Sometimes, I just want to leave work and leave the country. The issues are riveting. Timely. Dangerous for me, the one trying to multitask.
The mystery shows do not affect me that way. Partly because the story dialog isn’t crystal clear, maybe.
The day of clarity for me came not long after Emily had brought Lux Radio , Mystery, and Quiet please! Into the office.
It was a chaotic day. The office was a magnet, pulling in all grades of emotional states. The church chick feed jar was being gobbled away. Stress was everywhere. I passed out my stress swatters but they could not keep up with the buzzing and biting issues swarming around that day.
Multiple issues and discussions were running rampant. I was typing, and trying to keep up with some of the cross fire, but to no avail. I managed to remain invisible amidst the animated exchanges. Suddenly on the radio I heard, “ I can’t stand hysterical women” and my eyes darted across to a woman who was sharing her thoughts in a very vocal manner. I kept typing.
“Wadda ya take me for, some punk kid?” sounded the speaker. Then, “ You lousy little crank, with your fancy French car. You’re a dope dope dope!!” The animated causeries disappeared into the voices I was hearing on the radio. Then, the organ “ Da Da DAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” and finally, “ Must they ring anymore to remind everyone of the tragedy. I can’t take it anymore!” As if on cue, the discussions found closure, and one by one, the visitors left. The radio responded with ,”Exceedingly strange is this world”
It was at that moment that I realized that Mystery Theater is the perfect backdrop for church work. The music fits, and the dialog adds a flavor that changes stress to release. I think we should pipe in this station throughout the building. How can you possibly fuss or bother when “Are you accusing me of Alice McCreedy’s death? Of course not. Tell Mavis I want her. Everybody loves her, but Stuart, it’s you” playing in the background?
When I am working on numbers, which isn’t often ( smart move) or when I am multi-tasking, I play classical music with no words. It flows from the radio all around the office and out into the hallway and it is a verypleasant smooth time.
When my workload is the mindless repetition tasks that sometimes need to be addressed, then it’s Barry and me or Simon and Garfunkle and me or even Death Cab for Cutie.
Cold and rainy days whine for Billy Holliday.
But there hasn’t really been an answer to the daily grind. Until a few weeks ago.
My oldest daughter, who is a whiz at technology, downloaded I tunes on my computer. I did not feel lightening strike, but I wondered where God was because he surely was guiding Emily’s hands on that day. She opened the door to internet radio for her mom. It was a miracle.
At first, I couldn’t stop changing the channels. Why? Mostly, just because I could. Eventually, I started exploring and I came across this incredible internet station called mystery radio. It is all old radio shows. All day,every day. Commercials included.
Staff were concerned at first. Those who were anti-Manilow were begging me to play Barry. One woman said, “You are living in the past”. Let me assure you I have absolutely no desire to live in the past. Been there, done that. There was something else magical at work here, and it took me not long to figure it out. I noticed right away that it was a perfect fit. I wasn’t sure why for a while. I enjoyed watching others notice something different sounding out in my office. Our organist came in one morning, rushed and tired. He sat in the escape seat ( the huggy chair) and breathed for a minute. His eyes were closed, his head rested in his hands. Then, “What are you listening to?”
I kept typing as if nothing was out of order. “ Well, today we’ve got Loretta Young and Peter Lorre”. Type type type la la la la la la la. "I think they are both dead now, aren’t they?” type type type…….
He looked about as if checking to see if the walls had started to shift or if the floor was beginning to fall away from underneath his feet, then he recovered. “Oh. Okay.” Then, off he went- glad to step back into the hallway of present time I imagine.
I find it interesting that this talk radio does not keep me from working. The closest thing to talk radio is NPR which is so intellectually spicy, I can’t play it and work. Sometimes, I just want to leave work and leave the country. The issues are riveting. Timely. Dangerous for me, the one trying to multitask.
The mystery shows do not affect me that way. Partly because the story dialog isn’t crystal clear, maybe.
The day of clarity for me came not long after Emily had brought Lux Radio , Mystery, and Quiet please! Into the office.
It was a chaotic day. The office was a magnet, pulling in all grades of emotional states. The church chick feed jar was being gobbled away. Stress was everywhere. I passed out my stress swatters but they could not keep up with the buzzing and biting issues swarming around that day.
Multiple issues and discussions were running rampant. I was typing, and trying to keep up with some of the cross fire, but to no avail. I managed to remain invisible amidst the animated exchanges. Suddenly on the radio I heard, “ I can’t stand hysterical women” and my eyes darted across to a woman who was sharing her thoughts in a very vocal manner. I kept typing.
“Wadda ya take me for, some punk kid?” sounded the speaker. Then, “ You lousy little crank, with your fancy French car. You’re a dope dope dope!!” The animated causeries disappeared into the voices I was hearing on the radio. Then, the organ “ Da Da DAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!” and finally, “ Must they ring anymore to remind everyone of the tragedy. I can’t take it anymore!” As if on cue, the discussions found closure, and one by one, the visitors left. The radio responded with ,”Exceedingly strange is this world”
It was at that moment that I realized that Mystery Theater is the perfect backdrop for church work. The music fits, and the dialog adds a flavor that changes stress to release. I think we should pipe in this station throughout the building. How can you possibly fuss or bother when “Are you accusing me of Alice McCreedy’s death? Of course not. Tell Mavis I want her. Everybody loves her, but Stuart, it’s you” playing in the background?
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