I Know It

Once upon a time, my brother asked my mother when it was that she knew that I was a crusty child.

I had a pet mouse when I was about five. A black mouse. Named Schwartz*. One morning my mother discovered that he had expired during the night. She went downstairs to drink some coffee and smoke a cigarette while she contemplated how to tell her small child about the dead mouse. When I came downstairs, and sat down to eat my cereal, she told me: “Your mouse is dead”. I looked up and said "I know it". She knew then.

Somehow, this little tale seemed an appropriate introduction to two more bloggity awards. Mayberry Mom says I'm a schmoozer. And Oh, The Joys says I'm nice. I am verklempt all over again. I used to be crusty, and now I'm a nice schmoozer? Then again, my husband would probably say still I'm crusty, and I know that my mother would. Can't be all things to all people, I guess.

But I know how to pass my prizes along!

I hereby dub Julie Pippert of Using My Words a good schmoozer (and community builder, through her Hump Day Hmms). She is a great writer and has the best internet monikers for her kids ever: Patience and Persistence. If that doesn't describe young ones to a T, I don't know what does.

And I hereby dub S. of Rhymes with Javelin as just plain nice, not to mention kind and smart and empathetic. And she knits with fishing line! And grows her own tomatoes! And she owns a bookstore! She's pretty cool.

Thank you Mayberry Mom and Oh, The Joys for bestowing these honors upon me so that I could pass them along.



*That’s how I’ve always spelled it – but it’s kind of a corruption. The Yiddish is “shvartz”, German is “Schwarz”. In any case, it was a black mouse, and we probably shouldn't have called it that. What did I know? I was only five.