I have to tell you seven things

I’ve been a rather lazy blogger lately, haven’t I? I wish I could say it’s because the Muse graced me with 50,000 words on my WIP, but such is not the case. Among other things, I’ve been busy with the Super Secret Project, researching book marketing options, and dealing with cell phone problems. Only one of those was enjoyable.

A couple of weeks ago, Lynn Davidson honored me by giving me the Versatile Blogger award. I’m sure she thought I forgot about it, but I didn’t. At that time, I had just blogged about two other blog awards and thought I should wait awhile to announce another one. So, thank you for the Versatile Blogger award, Lynn!

One condition of this award is that I’m to pass it along to 15 other bloggers, but since I so recently passed awards on to 13 bloggers, I’m not going to honor that condition this time. The other rule is that I have to reveal 7 things about myself.

It seems I have no trouble talking about myself on this blog, so it was hard to think of seven things I’d not already revealed. Never fear. I’d done this before, and most of you weren’t following this blog then, so I’m recycling.

1. I hate the taste of coffee … in any form. A bad experience with a coffee cream is why I have to break open every chocolate in my box before I put it in my mouth.

2. I get anxious and irritable when I sweat. Seriously, you wouldn’t want to be my workout partner.

3.  I tend to read magazines from back to front. I’ve always done this, but I don’t know why. It’s somewhat confusing. I never do this with books.

4.  I have only one lung. When I was thirteen, I had a pneumonectomy.

5.  Lukewarm food disgusts me. Hot food should be served hot. I’ve even been known to pre-heat the dinner plates.

6.  I gave my very important final report for sixth grade social studies on Atlantis. I had a tolerant teacher; she gave me an A.

7.  I’ve come this close to choking to death two times. The first time, I was about six and lingering at the breakfast table with my father and grandfather. I choked on a piece of bacon. I remember being surprised that I couldn’t breathe, then scared, but I didn’t alert either of them. My world started going black around the edges. The next thing I knew, the room was bright again, the bacon was gone, and my father and grandfather were still carrying on their conversation, oblivious to my close call.

The second time, I was in my late twenties and eating pizza with my husband and another couple. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. They all looked at me when I jumped out of my chair, and I recall seeing the moment they realized I was choking, but I also saw their panic and knew they had no idea what to do. I had one clear thought: I’m going to die. Then, acting purely on mother’s instinct, my friend Karen jumped up and jerked my arm straight up. The force ejected the bit of pizza crust and I breathed again.

There you go. I can imagine how thrilled you are that you took time to read my blog today. Why don’t you tell me something I might not know about you?