Laughter

Humor is infectious, especially  roaring laughter. Not only that,  when laughter is shared, it  brings people together by breaking down social barriers, self-consciousness and  facilitates intimacy. It  triggers healthy physical changes in the body by strengthening  our immune system, boosting energy, diminishing pain and stress.

“Your sense of humor is one of the most powerful tools you have to make certain that your daily mood and emotional state support good health.”

~ Paul E. McGhee, Ph.D.

Yep, laughter is a powerful antidote to stress, pain, and conflict.

 Humor lightens our burdens, inspires hope and keeps us in reality.

Laughter is free.

Laughter is powerful.

Laughter is contagious and addictive.

WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

SMILE> GIGGLE> LAUGH>

The Joke Is on Us

My maiden name is Myers

How many Myers Women does it take to drive a car in my mum’s home town?

Answer: 3

• My sister clutching the wheel, drives in circles until she can find a parking spot where she can drive straight through to the next row. She refuses to back out of a parking space. She constantly asks,

“But, Mum, I need a street name or at least an idea of how far up this street I have to go.”

• My 80-year old mother checking for traffic.

                             ”Emily, Emily, watch out! A car is coming!”

• And finally me in the back seat with a map because my mother never learned the street names.

“But Mum, is it east or west? Do you at least remember the first letter of the street name.?”

The Steer’s Pincushion Nose

Cows look dumb and lumber slowly but believe it or not, they are extremely curious. One day as a child, my sister,cousin and I sat on the edge of a stream to eat a picnic, realizing to late that a herd of cattle surrounded us on three sides to get a closer look at us. My heart was pounding as we gathered up our lunch, huddled closely together and facing the cattle, slowly edged away. I swear those steers followed us every step of the way, never taking their eyes off us. It was an eerie experience, the stuff of nightmares.

The old saying “curiosity killed the cat, should really say ” curiosity killed the cow”. Cows, calves and steers must be extremely bored because they generally investigate any foreign object or creature which finds itself in their domain. Unfortunately cattle explore small creatures by nudging them with their noses. This is a stupid habit when investigating a porcupine.

After encountering a porcupine, our poor calf couldn’t eat because he had thirty of forty long, barbed quills embedded in his nose. A dog can be held down, but a 1,000 lb. calf is not as easy to restrain. We tried, ropes and all our kids to hem him in but it was completely ineffective. Finally my husband opened one gate and pinned the calf in by swinging the gate back against the fence. Several kids pushed against the gate , two others pulled on ropes near his head and Michael attempted to pull out the quills. It was an exercise in futility as the calf was still able to toss and shake his head in pain. The only thing that brought him relief was when we pushed his nose into the huge tank of cold water in the corral.

Finally we admitted defeat and called the local large animal vet. Of course she tranquilized him, froze his nose and pulled the quills out effortlessly, though kids still pushed all their weight against the restraining gate and pulled on ropes while Michael held him in a head lock. Luckily the vet was so amused by our kids theatrics and comments that she gave us a discount.

Challenging Cosmopolitan Taste Buds

Backwoods cuisine  served with comic results.

My husband and a  rather eccentric  friend had driven up to the Quebec side, in the Canadian Shield, to fish in one of the thousands of lakes which surround us. Driving home in the twilight they inadvertently drove over a porcupine. Now Michael and his friend  P.J. had lived in the wilderness for a few months after university, surviving on fish, an old turtle, rice and coffee. Never one to waste good organic meat, P.J. immediately yelled,

” Mike, pull over. Porcupine is good eating.”

This was the opportunity of a lifetime. Porcupines are protected because they are easy to kill if a man is lost in the woods, simply bop him on the nose and this waddling lazy animal provides a delicious, tender meal.The two survivalists decided to nail this road kill to a tree so they could skin and gut  him without injury. They arrived home chuckling over their good fortune, still debating the best way to cook the tender meat.  Finally, they decided to stuff the meat with a bread, onion, garlic and herbs and wrap it in bacon.

Suddenly a wicked idea popped into my head,

” John is coming over for dinner tomorrow. He is so conservative but loves to act artistic and sophisticated. What if I served roasted porcupine?”

P.J. burst out laughing,

” And don’t say a thing until he has eaten at least half of his meal. I would love to see the look on his face!”

The following evening John arrived  wearing a tweed jacket with his  shirt collar and cuffs  pulled up over it, a scarf casually draped around his neck and a jaunty beret. Michael and I secretly smiled at each other as he raved over the delicious meal. Smiling mischievously I casually remarked,

“John, did you know that you are actually eating porcupine?”

He froze, fork held in mid-air with a brief look of horror on his face,

“Mel, you are joking, right?”

“Not at all”, I replied, “Since you are so very cosmopolitan, I just knew you would enjoy something exotic.”

John smiled weakly, nodded and then slowly lowered his fork. He did not eat another bite of his meat.

Trading Places?: You Must be Joking!

Daily Prompt: Trading Places

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a member of the opposite sex for a day? What do you think life would be like?

Just when I finally quit trying to be more like my logical husband, someone asks this ridiculous question. Finally I have embraced that I am a woman who is an intuitive, creative, feeling, perceptive person who is a circular thinker. I am content to drive my husband crazy.

Viva la difference.

When I was little, I thought that boys were loud and generally obnoxious.  Harsh, I know, but all their testosterone driven aggression and rough play was so foreign to my own temperament, that I considered them to be practically an alien race of beings. I have neverwanted to morph into a boy or man because being female is an intrinsic part of who I am.

So, please, do not try to tell me that little boys and men are just socially conditioned to behave in a different way than little girls or women. I loudly declare that, even as babies, little boys are intrinsically different from little girls and I celebrate that difference with joy. The fact is that the differences between the sexes is an example of nature  not  nurture.

Since I grew up with only one sister, my boys constantly surprised me. As toddlers, my three sons would stare at wheels turning as they ran toy cars back and forth again and again, totally engaged in this repetitious action. I simply watched with my mouth hanging open. It was an inborn obsession that developed into any machine that had wheels. Tricycles, bicycles, wagons, lawn tractors, cars and trucks were not only driven but also examined in minute detail. The boys turned bikes upside down to check wheels, fill tires and fiddle with the gears. Even more hours went by with my sons’ heads stuck under the hood of a car. My boys also seemed born with the ability to drive anything with an engine. While the girls struggled to learn how to drive cars (just ask their frustrated father), the boys learned effortlessly.

I did try to draw out the ‘feminine’ side of my boys. For example, one day Matthew was about four or five and he asked for his sister’s water proof doll.  I was so pleased. I thought,

“Yes! I have raised a son with nurturing instincts!”

When I came back into the bathroom a few minutes later, the head was off the doll and he was holding the rubber tubing connecting the doll’s mouth to its bottom. Matthew was making loud machine noises as he lowered the head into the water, filled it, slowly lifted his self-made swinging bucket and then swung the head around like a crane, pouring water into a plastic pail. Matthew’s actions startled me. I started to laugh at my son, my efforts to change him and this whole nature versus nurture controversy.

I celebrate the glorious difference between men and women, husbands and wives, mothers and fathers. The world would be a better place if women were allowed to help lead business and political spheres without taking on ‘masculine’ characteristics. The world would be kinder and more compassionate.

Viva la difference.

Waiting in Joyful Expectation

A Photo Experience of the Resurrection

ARTICLES ON LENT

http://clipzine.me/motherofnine9/clipzine/78372350325256890232/Lenthttp://clipzine.me/motherofnine9/clipzine/78372350325256890232/Lent

Shorten URL :bit.ly/10WVJhu

For those who are still here: Write and Story and Change the World With Me

One billion. What could you do with one billion of something? Of anything? Partners of the Heart (POTH) wants to collect this many happy stories and share them with the world! Look around you, in your home, at your neighbors and friends, and on your block. Is there a happy story?

www.marvelousmommy.com

Think about what you would do with that dollar. Perhaps you could buy a burger from a dollar menu at the fast food restaurant. Maybe it could buy a candy bar. You could trade it in for one hundred pennies and hope people pick them up after you drop them. Or you could support this compassionate drive to collect happiness and share joy.
Here's how it works. Go to the site www.1billionlovestories.com. Read about their mission and get to know them. Think about the happy stories you have in your heart. Write one. Keep it to at most of 450 words. Submit it, and donate a dollar. They use Paypal to collect  these funds. You can give more if your wallet needs to shed a bit of weight.
Feel a glow building inside you? That's happiness! After completing the simple process, you'll collect a heartbeat. Each time you repeat these steps, you'll get a new heartbeat. These grow and fill you with love. Your support of the non-profits they help also benefit. How much better can this be? Do it today! Submit your story to me. I'll find you a spot so the world can bask in the warmth of your happiness!

Spring- Time for New Beginnings

 I spotted a robin the other day, hoping between patches of snow. Of course the childhood verse sprang to mind the next day as the temperature dropped and March winds started to blow once again:

 “The March winds do blow and we shall have snow/and what will poor robin do then, poor thing? He’ll hide in the barn/to keep himself warm/and hide his head under his wing, poor thing.”

Spring also the time for change so hop over to my other two sites, where I am posting all the new stories and articles.

motherofnine9

JOY of nine9

The Joy Of Mothering Welcomes You To 1 Billion Happy Love Stories

The Joy Of Mothering Welcomes You To 1 Billion Happy Love Stories
Where happy stories are abundant as thankful hugs and smiles that are recorded forever!
Come tell your story now! Click on www.1billionlovestories.com then register or login, pay for your story, tell your story and select us in support of our Mission Statement.
To visit Our Happy Story click on www.1billionlovestories.com/node/2267

Imagine Sharing and Cherishing the LOVE of 9 children raised on a Hobby Farm in southern Ontario, Canada!
Click to read The Joy of Mothering | motherofnine9 story at www.1billionlovestories.com/node/2267
Why I write: I do not want all my family's loveable stories to die with me
I have mothered nine children and helped run a hobby farm for 30 years without actually sitting down and producing anything besides editing high school or university essays for my kids. No that is not a typo; it had been 30 years not months since I had the time to actually sit with the intention of writing. Naturally when I did stare at a modern keyboard, I froze. For one thing it was not my old manual typewriter that I had pounded on as a poor student but something modern and completely foreign.
I considered writing to be a solitary craft but looking at a blank screen or talking into thin air was a sterile exercise in futility for me. I could not translate the same creative energy that I experienced telling a story verbally to the keyboard. My intuitive, imaginative side stayed buried and my logical intellect wrote boring drivel at the beginning.
I realize now that I really am a story-teller. My oral skills have always been excellent, even as a small child. I delight in the energy and flow of words, dramatic gestures and the relationship with even one listener when I tell one of our legendary stories about the exploits of nine kids on a farm. Yes, my Irish side is alive and well.
I am now starting to feel legitimate, an equal to other so-called writers. I am writing better, well most of the time, because I have given my creative side the permission to rise up and speak. Of course I know that I am a long way from authorship but it is nice to ask for a connection on Linkedin from a writer or editor of an albeit small company without cringing with embarrassment.
There are many articles and posts written about why people write but honestly, in my opinion, people who write are want be read, to be heard. Blogs or articles submitted to Broowaha are not personal diaries or self-indulgent introspection. We write to engage with other people, to contribute our voice to the issues in our society or to share an insight that might help a fellow human being. We write because no one has the same experiences or the same opinions as we do. We write because we have discovered a voice that is unique, a voice that simply must communicate.
For me the joy mothering has been my call, my vocation and my silent witness to the world for 32 years. Now writing has become the method of expressing that vocation to a world that has largely forgotten the loving wisdom of mothers and more importantly, the treasured wisdom of children. I do not want alll my famillies stories to die with me!
REMEMBER OUR HAPPY LOVE STORY ARCHIVE www.1billionlovestories.com/most-recent

 Remember to  Click on The Joy Of Mothering  (photo of Daniel on the horse) when asked when they Share their Happy Story.Always use your Node Link http://www.1billionlovestories.com/node/2323

The Numbers

$18	pledges
25	stories
999,999,975	countdown

Privacy Policy | Terms of Use | Copyright 2013. Partners of the Heart, LLC. All Ri

NO Spam???!!!..ahh back within another day

I guess they jumped ship

Come Move With Me to Wordpress and I Can Say Ta-Ta to Spam

Somehow I ended up with three blogs, I am not really certain why.  On the other two, I interact with other writers  and here on Blogspot my readership is international but with little or no interaction. My main concern is that my blog here is plagued with spam. The powers that be no sooner get rid of one scam and three more take its place.

Becoming discouraged I found that I neglected this site. To give my readers a better looking blog + a choice of two to choose from I know that you will be pleased with my decsion to direct traffic to Wordpress.


THEMOTHEROFNINE9........https://themotherofnine9.wordpress.com- family stories but often posts
have a  wider perspective.
                  
JOY...........................................https://melaniejeanjuneau.wordpress.com- different posts, mostly still on family but also from a Catholic viewpoint.

Thank-you and I hope you come along. My readers have tolerated the fumbles of a beginner. After all I did take a thirty year sabbatical. People still came back for more mummy drivel. I slowly grew in confidenance and skill and it is all because of your encouragement and faithfulness.

Love and Prayers
 Melanie
See you in a minute because I am just a click away. And ta-ta to all the spam!! Good riddance!!!

Delight in the little Ones

Tell us about your Moments of Grace from this past week.  Where did you and God finally meet up in your day to day?

One of  my daughters  just had her first baby, a boy who looks just like his Scottish grandfather and his father. Declan ( Gaelic meaning Good Man) looks exactly like both of them. No mistaking this little fellow for a girl!

Last Sunday, when  he was 12 days, all sixteen of us gathered for another daughter's birthday. It was a celebration of joy, laughter and grace. All we did was take turns holding Mary’s new born and laughing with our 18 month old granddaughter.

Both babies were THE centre of attention. We were all enchanted, delighted and happy to simply enjoy these little ones.When parents love and rejoice with every new birth and delight in the antics of their babies, older children are formed to love and respect new life.

Take Eva's Dad,  our son, for example.

Just after his daughter’s birth, my son turned to his dad and said,

”Dad, I think that this is the best thing that I have ever done in my life.”

And as his little daughter lay sleeping on his chest, Daniel said,

”Now I know why you and Dad had so many Kids.