I think it goes without saying that the Snuggie and the Clapper are great inventions. A few years ago, I turned on my x-mas tree lights with a clap of my hands.

And I think we can also all agree that Mr. Ron Popeil is one of the greatest American inventors of all time. Right up there with Alexander Graham Bell and Henry Ford. Seriously, how could any of us live without a Pocket Fisherman, Dial-0-Matic or the Solid Food Injector? And it’s comforting to know that if I ever go bald, I can whip out a can of GLH and spray me on some hair.

And while we can all agree that those inventions are great, why hasn’t someone invented a battery-powered lamp so that ugly cords don’t have to run across the table and down to the electrical outlet? I hate the sight of electrical cords running down the wall or along the floor. Also, I would like someone to invent fat-burning chocolate. The more chocolate I eat, the more fat I’d burn.

What would you like to have invented?

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Ok, Andrés Velencoso’s not REALLY my fb friend. He’s a guy that one of my REAL fb friends (aka goddess Trini) suggested for FROS.

I have one thing to say about this week’s choice:

Is it just me, or did Trini find us one of the sexiest FROS ever? I am SO going to use Andres as the inspiration for my next historical romance … and maybe the one after that. He’s HAWT, HAWT, HAWT!

You guys know what’s coming … All together now … THANK YOU, TRINI!

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Early this year, I started walking outside in my neighborhood. I did it in preparation for our trip to England, because I wanted to get hubby walking and I knew he’d never do the treadmill. We walked every day in spring, and I made a startling discovery. The pain I’d been suffering in my heel from my plantar fasciitis ever since I’d started seriously exercising a few years ago disappeared! Apparently, because my neighborhood is hilly, and I was walking up and down hills, I was naturally stretching my plantar fascius, thus eliminating my pain.

That was the beginning of a new habit for me. Not only did I start walking outside every day, but I got religious about it. I walk in the drizzle, I walk in the cold, I walk in the heat (although I try to walk early to beat that), and I walk every single day (unless I’m out of town). I’ve never done that in my life. I’ve become addicted to my exercise. This week we had rain, and I had to miss a day when it rained really hard for the entire day. I felt off all day.

Part of it is the fact that I remain pain-free as long as I walk, but part of it is that it has become a habit. This is a very strange and new experience for me. In the past, I would have used any excuse to avoid my exercise. Now I panic if I wake up and it’s raining. Fortunately, for some reason where I live it tends not to rain at the time of the morning when I walk. I can usually fit it in sometime during the day, when it lets up or clears up or whatever.

I love my little stint outside. I love looking at the changes of the weather. I love the pretty lake I walk past. I love having the time to think through vexing problems in my book. It’s weird, and not like me at all. And I love that I’ve worked up to two miles a day. I want to get to three, more than I’ve ever walked daily in my life.

What about you? Have you developed any new habits? Do you exercise? Do you find it brightens your day, or is it always a slog?

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Okay, I couldn’t resist.  It’s Friday the 13th, the day for superstitions.

I have to admit, I’m not one for superstitions, at least the normal ones.  I’d love a black cat, would welcome a broken mirror (as I then wouldn’t have to look in it), and I don’t throw salt over my shoulder.  I stay away from ladders, but this is more because I am a clutz than anything else.

I do have one big superstition stemming from a past event in my life.  About 20 years ago, I didn’t like to fly.  I had to, though, as visiting our company’s manufacturing plants was a big part of my job.  The plants were always a plane ride to a major city and a 2 hour drive as the plants were in the middle of nowhere.  Because of this, my company hired a charter jet service to run shuttles between Cincinnati and the major plants – it saved a lot of money on commercial air fares.

So I was on this 10-seat Learjet on my way home from Cape Girardeau, Missouri.  I was the only woman on the plane that night and I was reading a romance novel.  It was Jude Deveraux’s Highland Velvet.

About halfway into the flight, we heard a loud horn.  Now, this is not something you normally hear at 30,000 feet.  We were alarmed, believing the plane had just lost an engine.  But the plane had two, so we were still calm.  Then, the engine cut off abruptly – total, dead silence.  The plane started to descend at a scary rate, in a corkscrew pattern.  I had time to think, “If I panic and get hysterical and we survive, these guys will never let me hear the end of it.  If we die, I’m going down reading a romance novel.”

So I did, calmly reading Highland Velvet while one of the male passengers had a total meltdown.  Obviously we survived, the pilots landing us on a tiny piper cub strip outside Evansville, Indiana.  Turned out the battery was overloaded and if they hadn’t turned off the power to the engines, the battery would have blown up in midair, taking the plane with it.  I think that would have been bad…

Afterward, the men marveled at my calm, not realizing how I’d clutched that book in my hands as I read the story.   They picked on the guy that panicked unmercifully – FOR YEARS.  How glad I was that I kept my cool!

That was 20 years and millions of flight miles ago and to this day, I’ve never gotten on a plane without a romance novel in my hand.  That is my superstition and I’m totally sticking to it!

Do you have any superstitions?  Any unusual ones?  Any that are born of an event, traumatic or otherwise?

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My kids and I used to play this game when they were younger. We called it Spot. I’d begin with “Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a fairy princess who–SPOT!”

My daughter would pick up the story with, “–who loved to eat lasagna. She’d eat and eat and eat lasagna until she was sick and–SPOT!”

And then my son would chime in with, “–and she got a rash, but that was ok because her father, the King, was also a doctor. One day the doctor told his fairy princess daughter that she couldn’t have any more lasagna and–SPOT!”

And off we’d go on round two. We had so much fun with that game that I thought we could play it here today, although with yelling SPOT at the end.

Yup! We here on Mt. Oly are a group of readers and writers all blessed with amazing amounts of creativity. We’re going to put that creativity to use and write our very own Mt. Oly Folly!

I can’t WAIT to see what you guys come up with! I just know our story will be big, dramatic, full of fun twists and turns!!!! As if you guys could write anything else!

Here are the rules:

1) surprise yourself!
2) have fun! Be wacky, fun, dramatic, exciting!
3) keep it g-rated, please. Some of our blog readers have children who read over their shoulders.
4) leave ‘em hanging so the next person has to work a little to keep up!

Ready? Set? Here we go!

There once was a fairy princess named Sabrina Jeffries (tee hee!) who lived in a castle perched high over a land called Mt. Oly. Princess Sabrina was a gentle and well-loved princess who was just about perfect, except for one little problem. Every time a suitor came to court Sabrina, her evil stepfather, King Bluto, would—–?

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I have a funky habit. I name inanimate objects.

Have you all met Sabrina? She’s my new cell phone. She looks great in purple and is very snappy. Why Sabrina? Because she’s sexy and sassy! Sabrina is so sexy that I need a new purse to carry her around in. I’ve been on the hunt for over a month but nothing is good enough for her.

My computer is Bertha because she’s hard working and very dependable.

My new desk? Monstro, thanks to my friend Joan. I think the name explains it all.

Our GPS is Melissa and I really don’t like her. She’s about to get fired because she’s pushy and doesn’t listen.

Did I keep this habit to myself? Of course not! I shared it with my son. His new Mustang is named Cecelia. Yes, after the song.

To me, objects have personality, although other ‘things’ do, too. I remember when we brought Precious home from the shelter. For two weeks we went back and forth trying to name her. The entire time we all three kept saying “Look at her, isn’t she precious?” One day my husband said, “That’s it! That’s her name.” And it was perfect. The day we took Anthony to choose his very own puppy, he picked up Ginger and said “Hello, Ginger!” It was love at first sight and surprisingly the name fit her. She has attitude to spare! I know pets are people and not inanimate objects but I sort of got on a name kick there. *G*

Am I alone in this quirky habit? Bueller, Bueller!? Do you name things or just people? Most importantly, what kind of purse do you think I should buy?

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Have you noticed that friendships have levels? There are friends you go to lunch with, and others you only see as half of a couple when you socialize with her and her husband. There are the ones you draw lines with, and others you would tell anything to.

I have some friends who know almost nothing about my history. They are recent, casual, and maybe not permanent. One never knows about that. It is possible those friendships will develop, and move to the next level.

Girl talk is needed to get it there. You know what I mean. Getting down. Admitting life isn’t perfect, that the kids aren’t all geniuses, that sometimes the dh drives you nuts. You have to have a bond to have real girl talk, and it is girl talk that makes the bond too.

Do you have a best friend? How long have you known her or him? Did you go through levels, or hit it off from the get go?

Are you cautious in making new friends, or have you always had a large group of girl buddies with whom you are close?

If you and your friends were the women in Sex in the City, which character would you be?

Do you have favorite girl fun things that you do with friends? Shopping? Get-aways?

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