Author Archives: Cindy

About Cindy

Married, Female, Empty Nester Love to garden, cook, read.

The Easter Peep

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Dedicated to my sister, Pam

When I was  seven, I decided that I wanted a real live peep for Easter. Oh, now, I didn’t know anything about raising a little peep or, if it would be a fun pet to have. I just knew that I wanted one.

So, I got my peep. It was a little blue one. And, I liked it for about a day. I didn’t know it wouldn’t stay in the box I made for it. I didn’t know it would poop icky sticky stuff all over the floors. I didn’t know it wouldn’t eat cool stuff like carrots and lettuce. I didn’t know it wouldn’t sleep in the bed with me or follow me around like a little puppy dog. So, I quickly became bored with it and it became my sister Pam’s charge. She was 10.

As the peep got older, it lost its blue feathers and got a little comb on top of its head. Poor Pam! She wasn’t stuck with a little hen that would someday lay eggs and reward her with gentleness. No, the little peep became a mean rooster that would peck her when she tried to feed it or care for it.

The rooster was moved to a rabbit pen that was located along  the back border of the yard. (I think this pen was left by the previous owners of our our house.)  This rooster would bang at the the cage if I got near him and he would flare out his neck feathers. I was scared of him and didn’t want to get near him! Pam, on the other hand, had to go feed him everyday.  He hated her, too.

On Pam’s 11th birthday, the little bugger pecked her really hard. She remembers bopping him on the head, so he would learn not to peck the hand that feeds him. (She said that he was fine after the bopping because it really wasn’t a hard bop after all.)  It being her birthday, she quickly forgot about the sweet little peep turned monster. After dark, she remembered to go feed the bird (cause that was her duty to feed all the critters). When she got to the cage, she found it dead and torn apart. A weasel must have squirmed into the cage and killed it.  And, of, course, she felt so very bad that she had bopped it earlier that day.

That’s my sister’s peep story. She related it to me recently and asked if I remembered it. Honestly, I did not until she brought it up. And, my memories about him are still a bit fuzzy.  

I do have one question for her now that I’m hoping she can answer. Did that little devil rooster have a name?

P.S. For those wondering, Pam wasn’t permanently adversely affected by what I’m now calling “The little bastard rooster incident.” Forty and some odd years later, she’s quite okay (I think)!

And, by the way, Have a Happy Easter, everyone!

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What a putz!

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My friend Daneen made a comment on one of my recent posts, “A day of little things,” suggesting I write about putzes. No, not the verb, as in “to putz” (to putter) around the house, which was what that blog post was all about, but rather, putz, the noun, as in “Dan is such a putz!”

It sounded like a damn fine idea, and I am dedicating this post to all of us in the universe that must tolerate putzes!

I guess it’s best to start with a definition. Putz is of Yiddish origin and in it’s loosest of definitions, it means idiot. In actuality, however, the Yiddish language offers numerous words to describe degrees of idiotness and it is of the utmost importance to use the correct word.  For instance,  in Yiddish, an idiot can be referred to as a schlemiel, a schlub, a shmendrik, a shmo,  a schmuck, a putz  and a yutz!

Now, in my research of the Yiddish idiot, the two most insulting terms used are putz and shmuck.  Both, are vulgar definitions that mean “penis” and are the most derogatory way to call someone an idiot!  And, of course, since there are two words available, one is considered a higher insult than the other!  Can you guess which one? Apparently, it is much worse to be a putz than a schmuck! Oy vey, I guess you just have to know your Yiddish!

So, back to Daneens’ suggestion that I write about  a putz. I’ve been thinking about this now for days,  and you know, I really can’t think of any one person I know that is a putz!  Well, full-time, that is.

Most putzes I know, aren’t putzes all the time. They have what I refer to as their putz moments – those special times when they can’t help but be a putz!

Like on the highway. There are a lot of putzes on the road, aren’t there? These putzes pull out right in front of you, weave in and out of traffic, speed up to pass you and then slow down as soon as they are in front of you, refuse to use turn signals, yada, yada.

At a previous job, I had a boss that liked to reach his arm through the door of the women’s restroom, while we were in there, to turn off the light. To save electricty. So, we could pee in the dark!  What a putz!

Another time, a couple of years ago, (when I lived far inland and my best source of seafood was a supermarket about 15 miles away) I called the seafood department to find out if they had what I wanted before making the trip. I said, “Could you tell me if you have mussels?”  He said, “Oh, yeah, I have muscles, got a big muscle right here.” I hung up. What a putz!

And, another time, long ago, I had a customer come into the bank to complain that we shorted him a penny in interest earnings. I tried to explain about the rounding factors, but he insisted that we ripped all of our customers off a penny and were getting rich of their backs. I reached in my drawer and handed him a penny, but he refused to accept it, arguing about the principle of the thing. I know it cost him way more than a penny to come to the bank and argue about this. What a putz!

Putz is a great word.  And, I’ve decided to use it as my word of choice whenever or wherever I encounter an idiot in my future!

Do you have a putz story to contribute?

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Twitter

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Most of you have probably heard of twitter. It’s been plastered all over the news – celebrities using it, politicians using it, jurors tweeting during trials, basketplayers tweeting during halftime, people losing their jobs over it, yada, yada.

Some of you may even be twitterers. I am a twitterer – my username is cindyoyo.  I’m not sure now how I came up with that name. I had decided to sign up for twitter to see what it was all about, but didn’t think I’d really use it, so I didn’t put much thought into a username. I did try using cindyo (since my name is Cindy O’Something), but it was already in use.

Most people liken twitter to a huge cocktail party. Everyone there is milling about hearing snippets of conversations. Since it is a cocktail party and you are suppose to mingle, you may hear someone talk about something that interests you and you stop there and chime in with your thoughts about the subject.  And, then, if they drift into another conversation that doesn’t interest you, you might continue strolling around the room to join in another conversation that does.

 The basic premise of twitter is to answer the question, “What are you doing?” in 140 characters or less.

So, at this most basic level, you might see comments like, “Stuck in a traffic jam,” “Eating sushi for lunch,” “housecleaning sucks,” “kids at soccer practice,” “why did the chicken cross the road?,” yada, yada.  These kinds of comments are aimed at no one in particular. They just answer the question, “What are you doing?” Some of these comments can be boring or incredibly funny or disarming.

I have become friends with “tweeple” from all over the world. Well, some are mere acquaintances, but some, those that you engage in conversations with often, become actual friends. These are people you would take the time to see if you were in their hometown, maybe meet for a beer or a cup of coffee.  I talk to people in Australia, New Zealand, Germany, Lithuania, England, Ireland, Wales, Canada, and all over the U.S!  It’s fun to see how we are different and also how much we are alike. Some of the people I follow are writers, gardeners, cooks.   I enjoy our conversations, and also learn something new everyday!

So, if you want to twitter, go for it. But, after all the positive things I have just said about it, let me also warn you about its negatives.  First, twitter can be addicting. Once you start meeting people and having conversations, you discover how much fun it is and you spend more and more time twitting with them. And, while you are twitting, you are not doing other things. This addiction makes me think of a quote from John Lennon, “Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.” Modify it for twitter and it would be, “Life is what happens while you are busy twittering.”  

Second, all twitterers have to keep a vigilant lookout for spammers and phishers. These are people that follow you and then encourage you to follow them back solely to either sell you something or to direct you to a link that might ask for personal information or might download a virus.  Since twitter is a casual social experience, some tweeple may have a tendency to let their guards down and can sometimes get suckered into one of these scams. 

There are obvious things to look for when deciding to follow someone you don’t know yet. One is the twitterer’s profile. Does the profile include a picture and biography of that person? Does that twitterer have followers and how many? Does that twitterer engage in conversations with other twitterers (real people) or just send “sale messages,” i.e.,  “I got a free PC and it really works! Click here for details.”  There are some “bots’ (not real people, but rather computer generated robots) that aren’t so blatantly obvious. But typically, if after looking at a profile, you think it’s safe to follow someone you don’t know, then follow. Try to engage the person in conversation (‘bots’ cannot reply). And, don’t click on any links sent to you by this person until you are sure, it is indeed, a real person that is trusted by numerous other twitterers. Spammers and pshishers are not out to find quality relationships. They simply reach out to the masses, hoping to rope someone in. It will not take long for you to determine if another twitterer is worth following.

You don’t have to let what I just said scare you off, though. From a security standpoint using twitter is no different than using email. You handle your twitter account like you handle your email account. You don’t open emails from people you don’t know, right? And hopefully, you are extremely selective about what links to click on. It is the same with twitter.  

If you decide you want to try twitter, you must sign up for an account at http://www.twitter.com. You also have to start following people and engaging in conversations. Follow me at @cindyoyo! I’d love to twitter with you!

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