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Carol H Tucker
Passionate about knowledge management and organizational development, expert in loan servicing, virtual world denizen and community facilitator, and a DISNEY fan
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beladona Memorial
Be warned:in this very rich environment where you can immerse yourself so completely, your emotions will become engaged -- and not everyone is cognizant of that. Among the many excellent features of SL, there is no auto-return on hearts, so be wary of where your's wanders...
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when looks don't prove anything
Today is the 1st day of the 4th week, the 21st day of the 1st month, the 21st day of 2018, and:
- Celebration of Life Day
- National Granola Bar Day
- National Hugging Day
- National New England Clam Chowder Day
- National Sanctity of Human Life Day [AKA Pro-Life Day]
- One-Liners Day
- Own Your Own Home Day
- Stephen Foster Day
- Squirrel Appreciation Day
- World Religion Day
- World Snow Day
I have been reading Post Secrets for quite some time -- looking at the postcards and wondering about the stories behind them, trying to think what I would send it [and drawing a blank; apparently living a life out loud means that you don't have a lot of deep dark secrets buried in the back of your life]. I have been moved to pity, occasionally to anger, sometimes to laughter, but today is the first day that I have been moved to comment
For years I heard my father make sarcastic comments about the mailman. I don't THINK he was serious, but given the constant tension between him and my mother and the fact that he upped and left when I was in junior high school, I have never been quite certain. You see, I stuck out like a sore thumb in my family. My parents, indeed my entire family, were brunettes of different shades from light brown to almost black, and they all tanned beautifully. Me? I was so fair-skinned that I rapidly freckled when exposed to sunlight, and a couple of hours in the sun caused a painful sunburn sometimes with blisters. And I was definitely a redhead. Both of my parents were slender and thin-boned, graceful and athletic. I was big boned, slightly clumsy and pudgy. In short, I always felt like a bit of a changeling. And then my father went to Frostburg where his mother's people live because he needed to help someone build something on a cider farm... Well an apple farm where they made cider and apple butter. He came home bruised and tired and apologized to my mother before he ever got cleaned up. And he looked at me and just shook his head -- seems that when he met his 2nd cousins, there were whole families of his relatives that looked like me, had my coloring, were gingers, and were of stocky build
Genetics is a tricky thing and not all children look like their parents
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