Geralyn Dawson Talks Dogs, Compares Mums, and Gives a Book Away
Good morning, Squawkers!
I do so enjoy visiting with y’all. Many thanks to Christina, Teresa, Eloisa, Connie, Liz, and Lisa for inviting me back. You are definitely the hostesses with the mostesses.
Readers, I’m giving away a copy of GIVE HIM THE SLIP tonight at 7 central to two people on the Squawk mailing list. Make sure you’re registered! And if you’ll forgive a brief commercial, I hope you’ll stop by my website at http://www.geralyndawson.com and register to win more goodies, too. We do need to sell those books, after all.
For today’s blog, I’m torn. Yesterday’s dog talk was so helpful, I’m tempted to continue. See, in the sequel to GIVE HIM THE SLIP the heroine has a Peke-a-tese, the hero’s father has a new Pomeranian, and the hero only respects “real” dogs like retrievers, etc. I’d love some Squawk Radio input on how my dogs should interact.
However, I’m also of a mind to talk about a tradition gone wild--homecoming mums–mainly because of a recent email exchange between friends of mine from different parts of the country. It went something like this.
(From Houston) “I’ve finally finished assembling the homecoming mum for my son’s girlfriend, so I can relax. If I’d know how much time and effort this would take, I’d have ordered from the florist after all, never mind the $150 price tag for the basic mum.”
(From Los Angeles) “Excuse me? $150 for a chrysanthemum? What are you talking about? No legal, non-exotic, non-endangered flower costs that.”
(From Boston) “I am sooooo not Texan. If this phenomenon moves north, I’ll yak up my breakfast.
(From Nashville) “$150? And I thought the $50 for my son’s prom lay was a lot.”
(From Tuscaloosa) “In my high school, a ‘prom lay’ was [*girl’s name deleted*.]”
Until I participated in this exchange, I never realized that this fall ritual so much a part of high school life where I live wasn’t practiced all around the country. It never occurred to me that a Minnesotan Squawker like Connie or Christina who grew up in Idaho might never have had the joy of walking the high school halls wearing total floral insanity –the homecoming mum.
For those of you unfamiliar with it, let me explain. Picture a silk flower–a mum--and multiply it at least times three. Add a small teddy bear or other plush animal, trinkets like plastic footballs, megaphones, other symbols of school activities. Next come miniature cowbells, flashing lights powered by a miniature power pack, and ribbons. Lots and lots and lots of ribbons, in school colors that stretch from shoulder height to floor. The rule to remember here is that you cannot have too many ribbons. Finish it off with a feather boa or two and a couple ribbon chains and if it’s too heavy for pinning, fashion a beauty pageant sash to hold it on, or a loop to wear around the neck.
All right, I know. You are recoiling in horror or yaking up your breakfast like my friend from Boston. You would NEVER wear something so garish, so outlandish, something more befitting the Kentucky Derby than the halls of a high school. They’re ridiculous. They’re absurd.
They’re what–in my part of the world--every high school girl wants on that particular fall Friday.
My senior year in high school, my steady sent me a mum–back in the day, they were real flowers. Ten–okay, twenty, but I’m not going any farther–years later, I still have it tucked away in a box of keepsakes.
My husband has a mum hanging in his closet. We had a huge Texas Aggie football watching party when he turned 30, and a friend brought him one as a joke–it was orange and white, the colors of the University of Texas, our arch rivals. Don’t ask my why he still has it other than he’s a packrat and it represents a special occasion and friendship.
My daughter received her first mum last year. It’s hanging in her room. It plays her high school fight song, has trinkets that represent every club, organization, and special friendship she enjoyed, and is the symbol of a time in her life that will always hold a special place in her heart.
I’m such a sap for traditions, even silly, ostentatious ones like homecoming mums. Now, when it comes to prom lays...that’s another story.
(Apparently in some parts of the country, a prom lay refers to a floral bouquet that a girl cradles in her arms like a baby. I’d expound, but I’m having too much trouble holding back the jokes.)
Here’s my question for today, people of Squawk Radio. Please, help further my education. Do you know of any traditions that might be limited to your part of the world? Or, do you have any good dog tips I can write into my current manuscript? I’m so easy...
Warmly, Geralyn Dawson