THREE PIGS AND ESTATE PLANNING

THREE PIGS AND ESTATE PLANNING
Category: News and Politics

Dear Bored But Alive Friends,

Some of you may not be bored, but then, some of you may be thus occupied by simple pleasures not so exciting. If you are reading this, I believe you are NOT working at this particular moment in time.

Five year old children have a handle on life. I listen to my granddaughter, Irissa, if I wish to tune in to the invisible world where everything is hatched. Here's your Washington Post news report taken while I drive Irissa to afternoon Kindergarten today:

Irissa: Grandma, do you know the story about the Wolf and the Pigs?

Me: Yes, but why don't you tell it to me.

Irissa: The Wolf tried to blow down the house built out of sticks. After that, he blew down the house built out of what was that stuff?

Me: Straw?

Irissa: Yes, he blew down that house, too. But he couldn't blow down the Pig's house that was made of bricks and that's the end of the story.

Me: Yes, but, honey, why did he blow the house in? What did he want? (I was fishing for her spin on this.)

Irissa: He wanted a little sugar.

Me: (Taken back by the innuendos that could come of this) No, I think he wanted to eat the pigs.

Irissa: Grandma!!! He didn't EAT the Pigs. He wanted, you know, some chocolate candy bars.

Me: I don't think that is in the story.

Irissa: Grandma, this story is written down. I know this story. It's in a book.

Me: (So let is be written, so let it be done...Pharaoh's decree abides here.)
Yes, okay, if it is written in a book, that's the story. Do you think it is good to build houses made of sticks and straw?

Irissa: No, because they will get blowed down.

At this point we are driving into the circular driveway to unload passengers. Irissa scopes out the children already there. She had hoped we would be early enough for her to place her backpack first against the wall next to the door to the classroom. She feels a need to be topdog. But we are not THAT early. It doesn't matter once she spies one of her classmates.

On the way to school, there are for sale signs in front of houses. I also saw an old panel van with the roof packed neatly with someone's personal possessions. It did look like they had their straw house blown in at some point and shifted to living out of the van like gypsies. Did the Pigs driven from the fragile houses feel that way? My understanding is they ended up with the OLDER BROTHER PIG who had the clout and skills to build a home of bricks and substance.

Questions remain in the adult brain if the Big Brother Pig resented putting up his foolish siblings or had the benevolence to support their return to society. Irissa prefers to shut the book and move on to the playground politics.

Love and Shelter to ALL,

Bev in the West

LONG AND SHORT OF RACCOON SONG

LONG AND SHORT OF RACCOON SONG
Category: Life

Dear Blog Reader Friends,

Today was one of those days when granddaughter, Irissa--five, gave me ample material to write about. If you have any children in your life, you will acknowledge their genius at original takes on various topics. No topic is verboten to a child. Small children are actually midget, improvisational artists. Let me share the dialog between Irissa and I on our drive to school today:

Irissa: Grandma, what songs do you want to sing?

Me: How about "Five Little Ducks"? (I begin singing the song) "Five little ducks went out to play over the hill and far away..."

Irissa: That's too long of a song. I know a short song.

Me: What is the short song?

Irissa: It's a raccoon song. Want to hear it?

Me: Sure.

Irissa: A little raccoon went to school.....(a minute into the song) and he asked the daddy raccoon if he could have a sleep over...(two minutes later) and he was singing and eating bananas with his friend raccoon....(we drove into the school entrance) and that's the end of the raccoon song!!! Did you like that song, Grandma?

Me: That was a great song, Irissa. Thanks for singing it for me.

Irissa: (Getting out of the car) I love you, Grandma.

And that is the long and short of the Raccoon Song. It must fit the attention span of the singer and person it is sung to. That's how Irissa sees this give and take of music sharing.

Love and Songs,

Bev in the West

AND THE ANSWER IS....

AND THE ANSWER IS...
Category: Life

Dear Special Online Readers,

My source material today is from Irissa, the five year old granddaughter that knows all, sees all. Her perspectives continually surprise me, but then that shouldn't surprise me. Right?

Here's today's insights from Irissa as we truck down the road to kindergarten:

Irissa: Grandma, do you like lava? It's hot, really hot.

Me: Well, I wouldn't want to get close to it.

Irissa: Then you hate lava.

Me: No, I don't hate it. I just don't want to get burned by it.

Irissa: Grandma! You hate lava then.

Me: Yes, I guess I do.

Irissa: Which do you like better? Hot or cold?

Me: I like to be warm better than cold.

Irissa: I like ice. You can chew it in your mouth.

Me: Okay.

Irissa: Ice cream starts with an "I". Do you know why?

Me: Tell me why.

Irissa: Because it starts the word, ICE. And ice is in ice cream. But ice cream isn't exactly like ice because it is soft.

Me: Yes, so ice cream is not yet frozen all the way.

Irissa: Grandma.

Me: (Changing the topic) Oh, look. There's some daffodils. Pretty.

Irissa: You could buy some daffy-dills at the store. My mom would buy you some. She would do that.

Me: Thanks. Or we could plant some. (Change again as we pull into the circular drive through at the elementary school.) Not very many kids here yet.

Irissa: Bradon's here.

Irissa bids me, Irving and Chichita adiou...make believe crocodiles that are my hands. I do the little croc hand gestures of them saying good-bye to Irissa.

My answers are not relevant.

Love and Daffy-dills,

Bev in the West

GOD'S JOB DESCRIPTION--5 YEAR OLD EMPLOYER

GOD'S JOB DESCRIPTION-- 5 YEAR OLD EMPLOYER
Category: Life

Dear Friendly Persons,

I write blogs concerning my grand daughter, Irissa, who is a precocious sage at the prime age of five. It is my job to help her arrive at kindergarten for the afternoon session. When we drive to the school, we have philosophical discussions.

Me: (As I buckle her into her car seat) Irissa, listen. The birds are singing.

Irissa: They are singing, "I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."

Me: Honey, I don't think so. Christmas is over.

Irissa: No, Grandma, they are singing that song. Trust me, I know.

Me: (Driving the car) What else do you know?

Irissa: Chris Angel can fly. God helps him fly.

Me: Well, Chris Angel is a magician. He knows tricks. God isn't helping him do that.

Irissa: Grandma, God helps Chris Angel fly and God gives him clothes to wear.

Me: (We wrestled that topic a bit) Okay, then does God give other people their clothes?

Irissa: No. Just magicians. (She paused and was thinking of her next insight.) Birds have their own God.

Me: What do dogs and cats have?

Irissa: Um, they have our God and he has helpers that watch over them. We watch over them, too.

Me: Grandma Grant is in heaven. Don't you think she is one of our helpers and watches over us?

Irissa: Yes, and she has wings, but she still has her hands.

The sum total of Irissa's philosophy of God: God has friends in heaven. He doesn't do all the work. He delegates and gives birds their own leader. He give magicians their clothes, but not regular people. Birds can have clothes like Santa Claus hats that they purchase at bird stores. The bird stores are in large bird houses where the birds enter through a hole, but not a door. Birds sing all year this same song, "I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."

That's it. Hope it made you think like it did me. Thanks, Irissa.

Love and Tweets,

Bev in the West

Pushing Past Inert Fears

Dear Friends and Family,

I actually have the Blog Addiction, but created it online in MYSPACE. First, I wrote nice, sweet journal types of entries as a timid person would. If you open yourself up like a book, you are not sure who would read it.

Now I blog with my friend, Impunity. She tells me to say it like I see it. And I do. The financial implosion of the world in September of last year, 2008, brought me out of my seclusion. I found this pro-active voice. I haven't shut up since then.

I am going to copy and post some of these other blogs. Some of the blogs are me talking about living here at my daughter, Kim's, house with her family.

This blog is me writing here in Blogspot for the first time. It is like going on a first date with someone from the internet. I will risk. I will push past inert fears till I fall in love with this site and realize that it is, indeed, a good thing.

One of the events that is drawing me here is the birth of a brand new granddaughter, Hazel Grace. She entered the world last week and is the daughter of my son, Dean, and his exceptional wife, Zina. They now have five amazing and extremely bright children...but of course, the parents are the DNA donors of these offspring.

CONGRATULATIONS!!! I pray all will be well for them as also to the rest of my family.

Love and Kisses,

Bev in the West