The Origin of My Blog's Title

The title of my blog is inspired by thoughts of my 84-year-old mom, a real character, who is known for her many, many off-beat expressions. When you ask my mom what time it is, she will instantly and cheerfully reply, "Half-past kissing time! Time to kiss again!" (She'll even follow it up with a kiss, if you're up for it!) The line comes from an old song, which neither Mom nor I have ever sung, though I do finally have a copy.

Say, "Excuse me," (for a particular reason) and Mom will respond, "I'll stink about it!" "Howdy-doody, my sweet patootie!" "Oh, my stars and garters!" "Heavens to Betsy" "Give me a smooch, Pooch!" When a man opens a door for her, she'll chirp, "There's a gentleman in the crowd!" "Oh, my stars and garters!" she'll often exclaim. Tell her, "Have a nice day," and Mom will respond, "I'll do my darndest!" If you're looking for something you've misplaced, Mom will offer, "If it had teeth; it'd bite you!" Drop a dish or break a glass? Mom calls out, "Did you drop your watch?!" Say, "See you later..." and she'll reply, "Not if I see you first!"

Thanks, Mom, for the inspiration. Have fun at "the pond!"

8/25/12 Update: Today, a dear reader named "Frank" whom I've never "met" before took the time to leave a comment on this post, sharing a poem that his father used to recite. It offers a much more fitting origin of "Half-Past Kissin' Time. Here's the poem:

by Elaine Stevenson

She stood knee-deep in meadow flowers,
His grandchild of four years old,
With eyes of periwinkle blue
And hair like harvest gold
“Teach me, Grandpa, tell me
Just how to tell the time.”
And she handed him an angel flower,
A dandelion in prime
Gently the old man held the stalk,
And filling his wrinkled face,
He blew on the dainty once-gold flower
Now turned to fairy lace
“One o’clock tells you’re beautiful,
Two o’clock tells me you’re kind,
Three o’clock hopes you’ll be happy,
Four o’clock means a sharp mind.
“Five o’clock prays you’ll be healthy,
Six o’clock brings gifts you can’t buy
Like dewdrops and bird song and rainbows,
White clouds in a blue summer sky.
The child watched wide-eyed in wonder
As the gossamer seeds drifted past.
“But, Grandpa, what will the time be
When our fairies have flown off at last?”
“Why bless you, my child,” he answered
“The meaning is surely quite plain:
It will just be half past kissing time,
And time to kiss again!”

What a gift! Thank you so much, Frank!!