“It’s your heart, not the dictionary, that gives meaning to your words.  A good person produces good deeds and words season after season.  An evil person is a blight on the orchard.  Let me tell you something: every one of these careless words is going to come back to haunt you.  There will be a time of Reckoning.  Words are powerful; take them seriously.  Words can be your salvation.  Words can also be your damnation.”

~ Jesus

Jamie Simmerman should be the sweetheart of Blogopolis.  She is kind, funny, and always pays toward the interest of others.  She is also honest, and even if she thinks you’re awesome, is never shy to tell you how she thinks you could be even awesomer.

Except that Jamie would never use a word like awesomer.  She runs Blue Duck Copy, a Christian company, specializing in SEO content creation and blog management.  Jamie knows her stuff, and clarified more basic writing tools for me in a single, rather brief email, than any teacher I’ve ever had.  Here’s what Jamie said about the semi-colon.

Semicolons, (this thing ; ) are used similar to an equals sign (this thing =).  Both halves say the same thing, in different ways.  Doing it right makes editors do this thing:  : )

Crystal clear.

Enjoy Jamie Simmerman, the sweetheart of Blogopolis:

What a Vacuum Hickey Can Teach You

I am not very mechanically inclined, but I do all right. I can hook up and program the DVD player as well as troubleshoot small appliances when they go wacky.

I have a love/hate relationship with my vacuum. It seems we generate an abnormally large amount of dirt and debris here on the farm, because I am constantly unclogging the suction hoses on sweepers.

Vacuum Colonoscopy

We have a routine around here that requires sticking long objects up various parts of the sweeper to remove unmentionable balls of disgust. I have done this so many times that my oldest son now knows when I sit down on the floor and turn the vacuum over, he’s to fetch the supplies for the vacuum’s *colonoscopy*. Life on a farm is great.

Attack of the Ladies

The joys of living in a 200 year-old house are unique. If sweeper-killing mountains of dirt were not enough, we also have a problem with ladybugs. Every time the temperature fluctuates, the ladybugs come out in droves. They flock to the warmest side of the house, where the bedrooms are. They crawl along the seams where the ceiling meets the wall; they crowd into corners, and kamikaze the TV (and my snoring husband). Eventually, they land on the floor in a stupor and die.

It was time to vacuum.

All Grown Up

Feeling quite every bit of his eight years, my son announced he could handle the stinky bugs and wanted to have a go at it because, evidently, that kind of stuff is cool to an eight-year-old boy. I gladly handed over the hose and began folding laundry.

After a few minutes, the vacuum began to sound strange.

Being the mechanical genius that I am, I reached over and knocked the vacuum around a little. It resumed its more pleasant humming and we went back to our cleaning. A couple of minutes passed and I heard the same strange noise coming from the vacuum again. I reached over and shut the machine off, preparing for another vacuum colonoscopy.

I looked at the boy to ask him if he was ready to help and I noticed a mischievous grin on his little face.

“What?” I asked slowly.

“Nuttin’ ” came the sly reply. Then the giggling began and I knew something was up.

“What!” I yelled through my own giggles. He lifted his shirt and smiled big.

Are You Insane?

He removed the vacuum hose, revealing a big round red spot on his belly. “Ah!” I cried, “What’s wrong with you, are you insane?” He grinned big, “Probably, I’m your kid!”

I gave him a swat with the pillow from the bed and asked him what he thought he was doing. He explained that a ladybug flew down his shirt and the vacuum tickles. Huh, perfectly logical.

I picked him up and gave him my best bear hug until he yelled for backup from baby brother. We wrestled on the floor, getting ladybugs stuck in our hair.

Little moments like this remind me of how great being a mother really is, and just how precious children are.

Now I just have to figure out how to explain the vacuum cleaner hickey to my husband…

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Writer Dad

Sean Platt is a ghostwriter for hire, specializing in custom blog posts and wedding vows.