Blog Archives

With Or Without A Piggy


Have I ever told you how much I love my bed?

Oh! I love my bed.
I know, I know:
I love my husband;
I love my kids;
I love my large happy-hour unsweetened easy-ice tea from Sonic;
I love my cat.*

We have to be careful not to water-down the power of the word: LOVE.
But man, oh man, I love my bed.


Mark bought me this bed twelve years ago during a particularly bad occasion of my Crohn’s Disease. We spent more on it than we were accustomed to spending on a mattress and box-spring set. It was worth it; it’s like sleeping on a cloud – a very large cloud. We super-sized from a double to king! We were hoping that an upgraded bed would upgrade my health.

As I remember, time and a change in my regular meds eventually helped more to improve my health. The purchase of the mattress/ box-spring upgraded my mood, my quality of sleep, and my desire to spend every waking moment, performing every possible household task in my bedroom.

I think it must have come with a ten-year guarantee. We laughed about how very possibly a grandchild could nap on this bed; that was twelve years ago, but no one’s counting.


Many hours of pleasure have passed on this bed. Alright, what I meant was: watching movies, lots of girl talk, wrestling matches, savasana -my favorite yoga pose- especially while listening to the rain, theological discussions -with dad, mom comfort (broken hearts and stomach viruses can feel eerily similar can’t they?), eating cookies -don’t tell Mark, folding laundry -very zen, blog writing, earnest prayer, kitten and puppy snuggling, dog-piling siblings and friends.

These last two call to mind a song indelibly inked on my brain during a 1970’s John Denver phase:

It was nine feet high and six feet wide
Soft as a downy chick
It was made from the feathers
of forty’leven geese
Took a whole bolt of cloth for the tick
It’d hold eight kids, four hound dogs
And a piggy we stole from the shed
We didn’t get much sleep
but we had a lot of fun
On Grandma’s feather bed

-Jim Conner

Without the piggy, that’s my bed; I love my bed!


Someone once asked me where was one of my most favorite places in the whole world.
My answer? My bed – piled high with kids, and pets, and cookies, and Mark (if he can stand it, ha! sorry babe).
Can you think of a sweeter place?


Where’s one of your most favorite, sweetest places in the whole world? May I humbly suggest you make plans to spend some time there as soon as possible…?


*hey now, no comment from the peanut gallery please.


Oh! and one more thing..

While I was writing the other day I glanced at the blog sidebar and noticed You Smell Like Pie has over a hundred followers!

I nearly fell off my chair. Yay, thank you!

Please (your information will NEVER be sold, traded, bartered, or even laughed at) comment below or on Facebook or Tweet me so I can say Hi

See you again on February♥16. And, thanks for reading! ~L~


a worthy goal


Hey, welcome back!

Thanks for reading last week, and for stopping by again today. I’ve been thinking – maybe I could have been a little more clear about my intentions. I originally challenged myself to post once a month. Twelve posts, that’s do-able, right?

I tried looking up an official definition of ‘blogger’ for us to work from but only found ‘blog’ and ‘blogging’. Here’s what, one of my favorite phone apps ever, thinks of blogging:

blogging – n. making an entry into a weblog or blog = online diary. When John said he was busy blogging, Sally said he should get a life!

It’s still a great app.


I admire radio and talk-show hosts, fiction narrators, and auto/biographers; The Life Of Lynn!<-be thankful you haven't had to read that book. My brain to mouth speed, however, isn’t quick enough to be on radio or television. My life not eventful enough for publication. Twelve blog-posts? It’s a worthy goal.

Oh, and my purpose? Nothing deep or educational. My strength lies in my ability to laugh with life. Yes, I meant to say with, not at, life. And then I was just about to launch off into an inspiring little speech about bringing others along as we travel life’s highway…

“Mom, (insert name of offending sibling here) broke Skyrim.”

…when this happened and interrupted my flow.

Life is unpredictable. And complicated. And difficult. And funny.


My next scheduled post isn’t until February: the shortest month of the year, National Bird-feeding month, the month of love, and, in 2012, leap year. Until then, I leave you with this picture of my son wearing a tea cosey.


Never trust a man, who when left alone with a tea cosey…doesn’t try it on. -Billy Connolly


This post sounded better right before I fell asleep. Unfortunately my brain doesn’t have download functionality (or fortunately, I’ll let you decide). I had to reconstruct it in the light of day.

Luckily for me dawn has cut short more than one substandard idea I have fabricated during the dark of night. How about you, any you’d like to share…?


Siri and me


My career as ‘A Blogger’ began at 10:37 a.m. this morning in a fairly inauspicious way: “at this very moment I’m driving around with a Whataburger in my lap arguing with my iPhone”.

We’re sci-fi fans around the Mattayhouse: Star Wars, Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, Star Trek. When Mark upgraded my iPhone to a 4S as an early Christmas present, my daughter Molly suggested I rename Siri (the voice-activated assistant app built into the 4S), ‘Computer’. You get it, right? “Computer, compute to the last digit the value of pi.” It’s a Star Trek thing. I thought the idea was inspired so I tried…

me: Computer, take a note.
Siri: “computer taken note” Here’s your note: Computer taken

me: Computer (pause) take a note.
Siri: “Computer” I found a number of computer stores… 20 of them are fairly close to you:

And she helpfully displayed a Google webpage listing 20 computer stores fairly close to me.

me: Computer, listen to me: take. a. note.
Siri: Yes, I can hear you, Lynn.
me: (to myself) sheesh.

Siri can get a little snippy sometimes, especially when you try to rename her ‘Computer’.
Doggedly, I tried again.

me: Computer, listen to me: take. a. note.
Siri: “Computer listen to me taken note” Here’s your note: Computer listen to me taken

Then, she turned herself off.


I’ve always wanted to be ‘A Blogger’. Even as a child I narrated my life as if I were dictating a memoir. Before any of us had computers I invented a job writing essays, “only about stuff that interested me and not for a grade, duh”. As an adult I realize that’s called ‘A Columnist’. Of course, even for fun, getting your ideas out of your head and ‘down on paper’ isn’t always easy…

Siri: What can I help you with?
me: Note.
Siri: “Note” Okay, I can take that note for you… just tell me what you want it to say.
me: Note: (pause) my career as a blogger started out inauspiciously (pause) …
Siri: “Note” Got it: Note.

She’s a feisty one, that Siri.

Siri: What can I help you with?
me: Siri, take a note.
Siri: “Siri take a note” What would you like the note to say?
me: my career as a blogger started out in a very inauspicious way (pause)…
Siri: “My career as a blogger started out in a very auspicious Way” Got it.

me: Siri, take a note.
Siri: “Siri taken note” Here’s your note: Siri taken

me: NOTE!
Siri: “Nope”
me: NOTE!!!
Siri: No, perhaps not.
me: No, Take. A. Note.
Siri: “Know take note” What would you like the note to say?
me: (to myself) gah!
me: (to Siri) Consider the fact that on my very first blog-post I’m already calling myself a blogger.
Siri: “consider the fact that on my very first blog on Marty calling my cell phone blocker” Got it.

me: (to myself) *sigh* I don’t even know a Marty…


Alright, life is too short and too crazy to not argue a little with your computer (you know you already do). So seriously: what’s the most ridiculous thing your ‘Siri’ (or GPS, or Marty) has ever told you?