Thursday, September 29, 2011

EAT THE RICH.

Please take a moment to watch this video . . . it provides excellent and articulate illustration of the problems inherent in the current administration's tax-the-rich mentality.










Love from Delta.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Oh, I do love a good controversy . . .



The small southern Alabama town of Bay Minette is giving non-violent offenders a chance to pick between lockup and church.

Operation Restore Our Community will have a city judge offer those found guilty of misdemeanors the choice between working off their offenses in jail and paying a fine or attending the church of their choice every week for a year. WKRG-TV in Mobile, Ala., reported 56 churches in North Baldwin County are participating in the program.

If miscreants choose church, they can check in each week with the pastor or the police department. When the program is completed successfully their case will be dropped.

Bay Minette Police Chief Mike Rowland says it costs his department about $75 a day to jail offenders, so the ROC program is cost-effective. "Longevity is the key," he explained in a television interview. "A 30-day drug program doesn't work. A 30-day alcohol program does not work. But long-term programs to do work, and we believe that's what'll happen here."

Rowland says that there is no separation of church and state boundary crossed here.

I can hear it now: the ACLU, the Jewish Defense League . . . people are being forced into Christianity . . .

Offenders are offered their choice of worship, but I am not sure if there is a synagogue nearby. Nor would I expect to find a Muslim option. The secular choice—well, that would be jail.

We all know how ineffectual drug rehab can be. Is religion the answer? Are congregations being put at risk? Will offering plates be a bit lighter when returned to the front of the building?

What do you think?


Update: Implementation of this program has been delayed while legal issues are examined.



Love from Delta.



Monday, September 26, 2011

Stamp Out the Postal Service's Problems.


For the first time, living people will be eligible to be honored on U.S. postage stamps.
The U.S. Postal Service announced today that it is ending its longstanding rule that stamps cannot feature people who are still alive and it's asking the public to offer suggestions on who should be first.

Musicians, sports stars, writers, artists—the possibilities are endless. Charlie Sheen, anyone?


"This change will enable us to pay tribute to individuals for their achievements while they are still alive to enjoy the honor," Postmaster General Patrick Donahoe said in a statement.

Stamp Services manager Stephen Kearney said, "Engaging the public to offer their ideas is an innovative way to expand interest in stamps and the popular hobby of collecting them."


Heidi Fleiss?
Around fifty cents, seventy five cents if you lick it.


They are inviting suggestions through Facebook, Twitter, a postal service website and, of course, by mail to the Citizens' Stamp Advisory Committee, c/o Stamp Development, Room 3300, 475 L'Enfant Plaza SW, Washington DC 20260-3501.


 How about this on your pristine white envelope?

100 million votes, guaranteed.



Who do you want to see in your upper right hand corner? Your level of interest may well determine the financial future of the troubled USPS. Give it some thought and share your thoughts here. Or send a letter to Washington with a boring old stamp on it.





Love from Delta.









Friday, September 23, 2011

Today's Female Empowerment Song . . .

. . . is Hell on Heels by the Pistol Annies. And the guys will like it, too.

I kept hearing this on the radio and thinking I must investigate the talent. Little did I know that Miranda Lambert has gone and formed herself a girl band. Blake Shelton's wife, Country's Sweetheart with a Razor Edge, CMA-dominating Miranda chose two women who complement her perfectly. Pistol Annies rock.


"I’m Ashley Monroe, and they call me “Hippie Annie.” I was born in East Tennessee and have been singing all my life. When I was 13 my dad passed away, and soon after me and mama headed to Nashville where we’ve been ever since. I met Ran when I was 17. We were both on Sony. At first we wrote each other off as “another blonde singer,” but after we heard each other’s music we couldn’t stay away from one another. I started writing with good ol’ “Holler Annie” a couple years ago and had to play her music for Ran. When I did, she flipped out!! We called “Holler” that night and told her we wanted to start a band! And here we are, the best of friends, writing and singing songs together, and I have a feeling this is just the beginning."

 


"I’m Angaleena Presley, and they call me “Holler Annie.” I was raised in the hills of Eastern Kentucky in a little town called Beauty. My dad is a third-generation coal miner, and my mom is a school teacher. I am extremely proud of my mountain heritage. The first thing I ever remember loving was Bo Duke. The second and lasting love of my life is music. When I was fifteen my dad taught me how to play “Mama Tried” on his old guitar, and that lit a fire in me that burns to this day. I moved to Nashville in 2000 and got signed to a publishing deal nine short months later. I have been blessed to work with Nashville’s finest, including Ashley Monroe. We met through our publishers and clicked immediately. Ashley later introduced Miranda Lambert to my music. Miranda asked me to come hang out, and before I knew it we were all in the studio making a record together. Miranda, Ashley, and I have an amazing creative chemistry and unbelievable friendship. I can’t wait to break the rules with my fellow Pistol Annies."




I am pretty sure you know enough about Miss Lambert already.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Pistol Annies!




Hope you like the song as much as I do.











Love from Delta.


Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Poultrypalooza



If you read this blog, if you are my Facebook friend, if you have ever been to (or driven by) my house . . . you are aware that I am somewhat obsessed with chickens. I was never a bird person, particularly not the kind to possess creatures that fly through the house and poop freely and are capable of crushing a knuckle with one tweak of the beak.

A few Alabama summers ago, my daughter wanted to get some pet chicks and raise them. We were vacationing here and living in Florida—we agreed to keep the little buggers for a couple of months and then relocate them to a nice home.

I did not count on their ridiculous level of cuteness. It was a sad day when we loaded the adolescent chickens up with a stranger, though her chicken-craziness was reassuring at the time. (I later discovered that some of our precious poultry was not well protected with her, but that's another story. We'll stick to light, feathery topics here.)


They looked like wee cotton candy fluffballs (the pink was some sort of topical antibacterial treatment, but it was pretty). That is Rodney staring down Beau. He was the bravest little chick in the world, and would run to Savannah when called.

Yup, we were chicken-whipped.

More babies followed, many of which grew into the hens you hear about from me these days. (The roosters—not so much. Roosters spend their days in mortal danger, protecting the flock.)

A moment please, for Pretty Rooster, Doodle, Mr. Fluffybutt and other brave males we lost in the line of duty.


If forced to name a favorite, my personal chicken has to be Elizabeth. She is our most intrepid and intelligent hen and happens to be my namesake. I used to sit in the yard with this teeny chick climbing up my arms, over my legs and wherever else she ventured.

Elizabeth was this big:


Here's Peep, our eldest and most maternal banty Araucana:



She is still adorable, even after raising several adopted eggs . . . er, chicks . . . over the years. Peep lays very small celadon green eggs, usually in the grass as she's running around the back yard. (I refer to these as drive-by eggings.)







Elizabeth the Speckled Sussex, our matriarch/monarch, has aged well. Here's a bird's eye view of her—we will use it for an anatomy lesson.

That glorious red crown? It's her comb. That awful stuff hanging under her chin? That's her wattle.

As one unnamed family member recently discovered, do not try to tickle a rooster's wattle. I would not attempt it with a hen, either.

Her earlobe is visible beneath and to the left of her lovely golden eye.

Her eye, by the way, has excellent full-color vision. Her hearing is acute. She can sense a mozzarella cheese stick wrapper from a football field away.














Chickens are foragers and essentially omnivorous. Ours are so spoiled that they don't really have to forage much—they make a big show of scratching around the yard a lot, pretending that they have to look for food. I was recently told that their scratching discourages snakes. I sincerely hope that is true.

Interesting facts:
  • Chickens are the most widespread of domestic animals. There are approximately 400 million in the USA, 29 million in Great Britain and 271 million in the European Union. Let's not forget the zillions in Asia that specialize in developing new strains of influenza, either.
  • Chickens are hot. Typical body temperature is 102 to 103 degrees Fahrenheit.
  • They are pretty excitable: their hearts beat around 300 times per minute.
  • Average lifespan? Five to seven years for a pet bird, but they can survive up to twenty. (I'm looking at you, Elizabeth.) Of course, the average lifespan in commercial poultry houses . . . well, you get the idea.
  • In 1979, a White Leghorn set a world record by laying 371 eggs in 365 days. (My hens are slackers, but their eggs are wonderful and much appreciated.)
  • Alektorophobia is the clinical name for the fear of chickens. Do not come to my house if you have this.
  • The heaviest chicken ever recorded weighed 23 pounds and 3 ounces. That is a heavy bird. (Incidentally, when it gets dark chickens kinda fall into a trance and can be easily picked up and maneuvered.)

They spend their days roaming in search of tasty things. This includes trips to the porch door if I ignore them for sufficient periods. I am flirting with the idea of a chicken doorbell. My money says that Elizabeth would happily ring for cheese.



This is our comely teenage hen Peanut, daughter of the late Mr. Fluffybutt and Mrs. Fluffybutt, raised by the mannerly and ladylike Peep, being courted by a banty rooster who lives nearby. I'm hoping they'll get together and I'll have a new rooster-in-law.







Love from Delta.




Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Some Gals Have All The Luck

You wake up one morning in an opulent hotel room, there's a rock the size of Gibraltar on your left hand . . . and this guy strolls into the room.



Okay dokey.

As advised, the rest of us should probably be saving up.





Love from Delta.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

The Tower of Babel


  • Thirty thousand books
  • Dozens and dozens of languages
  • A seventy foot tall metal scaffold

From May 7 to May 28, 2011 this “Tower of Babel” in Buenos Aires was a place where the world's languages flowed together, allowing visitors from even the remotest locations on Earth to find a familiar book.




In biblical Babylon the residents talked with each other with complete ease since they were entirely united in their culture. Then they decided to make a soaring structure (referred to as the Tower of Babel) that would reach Heaven.

Genesis 11:1-9:
1 And the whole earth was of one language, and of one speech. 2 And it came to pass, as they journeyed from the east, that they found a plain in the land of Shinar; and they dwelt there. 3 And they said one to another, Go to, let us make brick, and burn them thoroughly. And they had brick for stone, and slime had they for mortar. 4 And they said, Go to, let us build us a city and a tower, whose top may reach unto heaven; and let us make us a name, lest we be scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth. 5 And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which the children built. 6 And the Lord said, Behold, the people is one, and they have all one language; and this they begin to do; and now nothing will be restrained from them, which they have imagined to do. 7 Go to, let us go down, and there confound their language, that they may not understand one another's speech. 8 So the Lord scattered them abroad from thence upon the face of all the earth: and they left off to build the city. 9 Therefore is the name of it called Babel; because the Lord did there confound the language of all the earth: and from thence did the Lord scatter them abroad upon the face of all the earth.

When God got wind of what they were doing, their plan was struck down. Before the overachieving Babylonians with lofty aspirations knew what hit them, they were scattered around the globe and rendered incapable of communicating with each other using their once shared language.

The 2011 version of the tower united people through literature and featured audio of the artist,  Marta Minujín, speaking the word "book" in over a hundred distinct tongues.



Minujín devised the tower in celebration of Buenos Aires being chosen as the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization’s (UNESCO) 2011 World Book Capital. The used raw materials were donated by libraries and readers eager to help, as well as more than 50 embassies. Each tome was protected by plastic.

At the end of the installation, some lucky visitors were allowed to take home a book each.The balance will be used to create a multilingual library.

It didn't even come close to reaching the heavens, but for bibliophiles it must have been something to behold.







Love from Delta.


Saturday, September 17, 2011

Eye Candy

This is one of the prettiest things I have ever seen.

According to Esquire, my dream car (known hereafter as "Beth's Dream Car" or the 2012 Porsche Cayman) is 'the rare machine that makes gods of ordinary men [or women]'. The model with an 'R' after it—even better—costs $67,250.00. Esquire says the R stands for Racy, Refined, or just Really F-ing Good.

The handling is superb. This is my favorite line: "If you crash this, you are the kind of person who could set yourself on fire making soup."

This is the view of me driving away to the Piggly Wiggly.

There is a special Black Edition. Only five hundred will be built. That model will be known hereafter as "Beth's Super Dream Car".

Do you know how happy just looking at this makes me?

If you see one of these unattended with a key in the ignition, let me know. Quickly.




Love from (vroom vroom) Delta.


Friday, September 16, 2011

Difficult and Challenging Women in Literature are _______________

     

     According to Shakespeare, a shrew is known by her “impatient humour,” a “chattering tongue,” “scolding” and “waspish,” bandying “word for word and frown for frown.” She is “froward, peevish, sullen, sour,” and “not obedient to [her husband’s] honest will.” In the end, of course, the shrew is tamed. She places her hand below her husband’s foot.

     Yeah, whatever.

     Gershon Legman calls the shrew, the 'spirited' woman, by a different name in his foul-mouthed study of censorship Love and Death. "The bitch has been here before," he states. "She was never gone. But, for our generation, first in Gone With the Wind in 1936 was she made a heroine. Margaret Mitchell​ did for bitchery what Edgar Allan Poe​ did for murder—she made it respectable."

     Scarlett the character turns seventy-five this year. She's been endlessly analyzed, criticized, lionized and ostracized.

     Complicated? She was spoiled, vain, pretty, manipulative, selfish, covetous, unwilling to concern herself with serious topics (War? Fiddle dee dee.), passionate, dramatic and a bit vengeful. Was she a bitch?

     I really, really hate that word. It's second only to one other vulgar term for a female I despise. (My close friends can tell you what it is.) In my opinion, a woman has to be hateful and deliberately cruel—at least rude—to earn the label.

    I would be interested to hear from my fellow bibliophiles out there. What literary character is truly deserving of the term "bitch"? Let's make a list. I'll start:


Nurse Ratched
in

     I think she deserves the title. If we get to ten—through your comments and emails—I'll do a follow-up blog called, "Who Not To Act Like".

     In the meantime, as we say in The South, "Be sweet."

     Scarlett was. Some of the time.








Love from Delta.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Donkey Whisperer

Every once in a while, a political ad comes along that makes me wish I could vote for the candidate . . . even if he's running in another state.

Bravo, Roger Williams!





Donkey friends, please don't be mad.

You have to admit this is clever.






Love from Delta.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

On September 11th



Ten years ago today I kissed my children as I dropped them off at school, started folding laundry on my bed, and turned on the Today Show. It was my ritual.

Katie and Matt looked slightly concerned when I glanced up, dishtowel in hand. A small plane had crashed into one of the Twin Towers.

I called my husband at work. He's a pilot, and we conferred briefly about how much havoc an air traffic control error could wreak. It was any other Tuesday, with a minor accident in New York City.

When the second plane hit, my stomach reacted the same way yours did. We knew. I must admit that I still held hope that it was the work of an isolated crackpot or two, not an international terror attack.

The collapse of the first building mesmerized me. The knowledge that the second would fall as well had me frozen in horror.

Our collective memory of that day unites us all. The tears we shed as we watched events unfold in Pennsylvania and Washington, the fear that gripped us as we contemplated what could possibly come next, the eerie silence and apprehension every time we sneaked a furtive glance at the sky for weeks . . . months.

The newscasters kept saying life in our country would never be the same. We talked about our nightmares (mine involved bombs in nearby Tampa, where MacDill Air Force Base is located). We comforted our children. We prayed. A lot.

I still do, most every day. I pray for America. I pray for the safety of our country and for God's blessing on her people.

For all the innocents in this world affected by twisted, hateful, cruel ideology.

A friend across the ocean recently reminded me that Americans were not the only ones touched by the terror of September 11, 2001. She is right—the list of nationalities among the victims is a mile long.

Please watch.



None of us will ever forget. It's a wound that will never heal, but the scar is less noticeable after a decade. May it fade more in time.




Love from Delta.


Tuesday, September 6, 2011

I Feel Pretty, Oh So Pretty . . .


The responses to my post about cosmetics (Hope In A Jar) have been pouring in faster than mascara runs in the rain. I am delighted to share these secrets and recommendations from some of the loveliest women I know . . . and moi.

Origins moisturizers: Brighter By Nature, a skin tone correcting serum. "Somehow it almost makes the fine hairs on your face twinkle. Have used it for maybe three years. I remember when the first few weeks people kept saying, 'Wow you look great!' and I knew nothing had changed but this stuff. If you happen to get some, it only takes a little and if you use too much it makes your face feel sticky. 

 "In The Help, Minnie describes the benefit of Crisco. ("Your man got scaly feet?" Crisco.") My Crisco is olive oil. In spite of my oily skin, olive oil is a great product for over night moisturizing, whether on your face or hair. We live at the beach so my hair dries out easily. Before heading out I'll slather my hair with a couple of teaspoons of olive oil. When I wash it out it is soft and smooth rather than dry or brittle."

Avon's Anew Luminosity Ultra Advanced Skin Brightener: "This is a great facial moisturizer and I use it to take make-up off, too. Blends blush nicely, and gives skin a nice glow." 

"The very best thing we can do for our skin is sunscreen, sunscreen, suncreen. As a child of the seventies I bathed in Hawaiian Tropic and am now paying the price; however, I am amazed at the difference in my skin since I started being sunscreen smart about 10 years ago. I love Neutrogena Ultra Sheer Dry Touch. I have oily skin and this is a perfect consistency."

Lip stains: "I was never good at replacing lipstick during the day and so these are great for me . . . my very favorite is Almay [#200 Honey]. I have been using Cover Girl's Outlast but it doesn't stay as well as the Almay. I have also tried Revlon's ColorStay."
(Note: I think #200 Honey has been discontinued, but it is available online.)


"NYC has terrific cheap lip gloss at Target. Costs about two dollars, goes on great and lasts a long time."
St. Ives Timeless Skin, collagen elastin facial moisturizer: "I get it at the grocery store—and always keep 2 backups—because I am afraid they will discontinue it. (Everything I love gets discontinued.) BIG ole jar, 10 ounces, $4.98. I use it from face to heels. There is a “Fresh Skin” version too – same stuff. Love it. Slather it—it all soaks in—not greasy at all."
(Note: everything I love gets discontinued, too.)

Donna Karan Cashmere Mist deodorant: "I don’t use fragrance . . . but I splurge so that my pits smell nice."

"The one thing I think I couldn't manage without is my eyelash curler. I don't think a woman can do anything to instantly look better than curl her lashes, with or without mascara. My cheap one works just as well as the expensive ones I've owned, too. Just be sure to clean it with a Q-tip daily to avoid gunk that might pull your lashes out."

Almay eye liner crayon in black/brown: "Bet I have used 20 of these over the years (and tried 8 or 9 others also)—I think it smudges less than any other I have tried—and doesn’t bug my eyes . . . I wear contacts."

"I guess my favorite mascara of the trillion I have tried is Rimmel Lycra Lash Extender Length & Curl Mascara in Black. I have bought it at least 3 times, if that says anything . . . "

"I use Cover Girl Lash Blast in the orange tube. I've tried other things including Cover Girl's Nature Luxe and even Christian Dior (which I've heard others RAVE about), yet I've never received more compliments than when I'm wearing the $8 tube!"

"I have used Great Lash for many years. One thing I do is pull the wand out of my old tube and put it in the new one each time. It goes on lighter that way. (If you're concerned about bacteria or whatever, wash it in hot soapy water first.)"
Eye makeup remover: "Used to like Almay oil free—but they changed it. My favorite I guess is Arbonne About Face Wipe out—but I hate the bottle. Too tall to go in the drawer and the base is small and so I am constantly knocking it out of the medicine cabinet . . . after about 15 hits—the seam splits. So it is in an old Almay bottle in the drawer now. It is pricey . . . "

"I use Maybelline Oil Free Eye Make-Up Remover. It doesn't bother my contacts, and I've relied on it for many years."


Burt’s Bees w/pomegranate oil lip balm: "Every morning, in my purse and before bed. I think lip balm is addictive."

"I love Yes To Carrots lip balm in the melon flavor. It's light and not greasy. I put it on before bed and every morning. I also exfoliate my lips with a moistened Q-Tip . . . works very well for softness."

"LOVE Burt's [Bees] products. I always put it under my lipstick and it keeps all the lines from filling up with product. Mascara? Whatever is buy one get one free at CVS. Seriously. I have never found a huge difference in mascara. Just put on several coats, make sure it's not clumpy or thick, and brush the entire length of the lash."

e.l.f. cosmetics [Eyes Lips Face]: "Target carries this line now, and I love it! Almost everything is priced from $1 to $3, and the quality is good. Even if you are just experimenting, it's hard to go wrong at those prices."

Res-Q-ointment in a tin: "It is always on the counter for the little yard/boat whatever scrapes I get. I travel with it too. I am a klutz."

New Skin Liquid Bandage: "A must if you're as addicted to high heels as I am. Touch up your blister and endure. It's also good if you rip a fingernail below the quick."

Orly “Soul Mate” nail polish: "I get it at Sally’s. The only red that “goes” with red AND pink and doesn’t fight with orange that I have found."

Kiss artificial nails: "A friend started me using these toenails years ago. I picked up the fingernails, too. I only use the French manicure type, and get compliments on my nails all the time. If they break, they come off clean and you just put another one on. Who needs to sit in a nail salon for an exasperating hour or more?"

Dove “Nutrium” body washes: "In the shower as wash and as shave gel—and haven’t had to moisturize my legs since I started that years ago. I like the orange one—Nectarine Ginger I think it is."
Method Tub and Tile soap scum remover in eucalyptus mint: "I don’t know that it works on soap scum—but a couple of squirts of that in the shower . . . And I am briefly transported to a spa . . . That’s not a bad way to start or end the day."

ULTA Chocolate Milkshake Shower Smoothie: "I have used Philosophy and other great smelling body washes, but this is even better and costs so much less. I walk around smelling like a French bakery and I love it. It's being discontinued, but is still available in ULTA stores." 



HAIR: A few words about the Brazilan Blowout . . .


      
     Anyone who knows me well knows that I hate and despise doing my own hair. Trips to the salon are an indulgence, yes, but when your style is long and sleek, a good blowout is essential. I am attempting to embrace my husband's austerity program by performing my own hair feats at home more often. 
     I will admit that I am not the most wonderful client in the chair. I know what I want my hair to do, and I usually end up arranging my own bangs and fussing with my style before I ever get up to leave. I have known some spectacularly talented stylists over the years, and they have tolerated my little quirks with patience and humor.
     If my novel ever sells, I will be in the salon three times per week or more. This thought makes me happy.
     Step One of my new self hair-do dedication was getting a Brazilian Blowout, the expensive keratin treatment I'd been flirting with for years. I took the plunge last week, and want to share my observations with those interested in the process and follow-up. (You would not believe how much internet space is dedicated to Brazilian Blowout results and aftercare.)
     Following a keratin application, you can't use shampoo or other products with sodium chloride or sulfates. Salons (naturally) want you to buy their wares, so they make you very afraid to venture out and select your own. 
     I spent a lot of time doing research, and became so jittery over a shampoo choice that I went to Sally Beauty Supply and bought ion Smooth Solutions shampoo and a keratin conditioner by Brazilian Tech on the clerk's recommendation. (I told her that if they messed my hair up, I was going to come back and cry on her.)
     The bottles sat on the edge of the tub for a while. I was terrified to try them. What if I messed up the soft, silky tresses I'd paid for?
     This morning I made myself do my own hair. No one with short hair (particularly my husband) can understand why this is such an ordeal, but it is. This is what I am thinking as I blow dry my hair: "This is taking forever it is so hot in here I can't believe it's not dry right there OH LORD I have wrapped my hair around the gel handle of the brush ouch it is so hot in here this is taking forever there is a REASON people get paid good money to do this I hate doing my own hair my eyes are burning this is taking forever why is it so hot in here my arm hurts I hate doing my own hair . . . "
     When it is finally dry (my hair is very thick, and I am pretty sure it takes as long for me to dry it as a groomer takes to hand comb and towel a Golden Retriever to perfection), it looks frizzy to me. I must force myself to take a break before tackling the flat iron portion. Otherwise I might start screaming in the bathroom, and no one wants to walk in on that in the middle of the day.
     I took a break to write all that while the flat iron heated up. I sprayed my hair with organix brazilian keratin therapy flat iron spray (this smells like coconut, and gave me the will to go on) and got to work. I am happy to report that the hair went from zero to silky in about four minutes (this is what a Brazilian Blowout is supposed to do, after all). I put a teeny bit of ion Silk Drops on the ends for final smoothing.
     I am not sure what the rear view looked like, but I can always back out of rooms.
     At that point, I realized I'd not eaten all day and was famished, so I'm scarfing down a mozzarella cheese stick as I type this. The lone hot roller that will bring my bangs to proper attention (I sincerely hope) is heating up.
     After the hot roller, I will spritz a bit of light spray on and start on make-up so that I can go to the post office this afternoon. After I do my nails . . . 
     It's a good thing I have a sense of humor. I just realized I really need a haircut.

I believe in manicures. I believe in overdressing. 
I believe in primping at leisure and wearing lipstick.
I believe in pink. I believe happy girls are the prettiest girls.
I believe that tomorrow is another day, and . . . I believe in miracles.
 
- Audrey Hepburn
 






Love from beautiful Delta.