S'long, September

Let the alliteration begin!

Make way for "Oh"-verbearing October.  I invite you to join in - if you think you can keep up. ;)

Not here for your cross purposes

Hey!  I blog because it's therapeutic (some days). 

I blog because it shares information with [my] family, friends, and interested parties, without having to spend a lot more time retyping the same answers to similar questions over and over. 

I blog because (for the most part) I enjoy it.

Over the last week I have had three really odd comments from solicitous neenerheads, people I do not know....most of which had nothing to do with the blog they commented under. Now I find I am receiving the oddest tripe in the form of comments....written in Chinese characters, no less!

Seriously, if you think you can promote YOUR blog by way of insincere flattery and BS - think again! I don't require comments to validate my existence. 

Good luck with your self esteem issues, though, and trying to promote yourself elsewhere.  I know how to filter and use my delete functions.

Bye-bye, doo-doo heads.

This just struck me as funny

Yahoo article:
   "She may have kept a poster of Tom Cruise on her wall as a kid, but Katie Holmes' first big, real-life romance was with another tall, dark and handsome..."

Did you catch it?  Was it obvious, or is it just me?

Tom Cruise: 5'7"
Joshua Jackson: 6'1.75"

And, may I add, Katie is a good couple of inches taller than Cruise in stocking feet.

"...another tall..."???

Heck, I'd be willing to bet the poster was taller than the actual thing. ;)

We've lost another

Rest in peace and harmony, Andy Williams.

Everybody say "oopsy"

If you read here periodically you may remember that one of our cats has had health issues pertaining to her urinary system.

Cleo (Brian's cat) has had struvite crystals (akin to kidney stones), which was always an odd coincidence since Brian has had (and continues to be plagued with) stones.

At any rate, over the last year - give or take - Cleo has run into another issue, which we've managed to hurdle as a family on those 'crappy' occasions.  She becomes blocked (not constipated), and when that happens, our first warning of a bumpy day to come begins with her violent vomiting and extremely hot ears; continual, fruitless trips to the cat box; quiet whimpering; butt crawling; malaise; straining and dripping butt mud. 

It's a long road for her, but it finally culminates in a large stool or two.

We try to keep her cordoned in a small area and we line the floor with layers of newspapers.  We supply a small, make-shift cat box for her mental comfort, and keep her company and give her support when the going becomes extra rough.  When she begins to leak wet stool ("dripping butt mud"), I clean her bum after each try at evacuating stool - for this I am licked furiously, but lovingly.  Eventually, she is able to go.

She won't accept milk, and rarely drinks water while having an episode.  It's a wait-and-see ordeal, usually resulting in positive results anywhere from four to six hours after it begins.

She very recently had one of these bouts and I read online where a vet recommended a small amount of Metamucil be added to water and/or food to help 'grease the wheel.'  So, we rushed to the store and bought our girl a small supply, and hours later (after adding it to very wet canned food), plop went the weasel!  It was also suggested that canned pumpkin or mineral oil be added to the diet on a fairly regular basis.   Well, one of these will be added right away to keep her from suffering like this again.

We were so relieved for her that I lay down on the sofa with Cleo and we took a catnap.  However, before we closed our eyes, I neglected to pick up the small container of Metamucil-spiked water, and I awoke to the sounds of one of the other cat lapping at the water!

Um....oopsy.

Oh, and, Terry Sawyer...

If that was really you leaving a (somewhat) strangely-worded comment on a year-old blog entry, thank you.  It was a kind (strangely-worded) comment, and I truly appreciated it.  Thanks.

[tiny flattery blush]

Pssst....I am assuming you were using an iPad (or other sort of tablet) to write it on.  I have a friend who also uses an electronic "pad", and suffers a lot of typos and word-corrected app-foibles in her messages.

Hope to read you again some time, when you aren't at war with the press. :)

What the hey?!!?

Why is the Motor City being dragged into this?  I dunno, but here is one rather snarky Detroit-inclusive comment left on the blog of a person named Terry Sawyer:
"Hey Corcoran, may I suggest you check out Detroit sometime. It has everything you're looking for in a "dream city." Or maybe Cleveland.  Or wherever. Just please NEVER come back." -- ERRXN.

Totally unsure of what this is all about, except I did read the two verbal-fisticuffs rants of Terry Sawyer (respondent) and ['something']Corcoran (hang on...I'll go look again.  OK, so it's Michael Corcoran) -- yellow-page journalist with nothing to do, apparently, but incite trouble. 

As I began to say, I read the two inciting quips and retorts for incite and found I would have been better off cleaning out the cat box to pass my time.  Sorry, Terry.

It seems our Mr. Sawyer took umbrage with an article penned by this Corcoran fella some time back, regarding the later's attitude of woes (in spades) surrounding the seemingly lackluster condition of Austin, TX. [did ya follow that?] 

So, Sawyer blogged a response (or two) slamming Corcoran's diatribe (and Corcoran), then things seemed to take a nasty turn, each responding - and responding again - to the other's reactionary poo-slinging.This was months ago, and quite frankly, it appears the Corcoran fella is a little disgruntled (and well off the mark) in assuming Sawyer was aiming to make a name for himself by generating a stink using Corcoran as fodder for a well-read 'blogicle.' 

See, from what I can tell, Sawyer already has a following and didn't need to dress-down Corcoran for more notoriety; but he (TS) did dispatch the windbag (MC) ably, to my Austin-ignorant eyes, and to that end I salute Mr. Sawyer.

However, I read through the comments to Sawyer's initial response, only to find Detroit included in a rather derogatory and unkind backlash-sort-of comment (included above).  So, hopefully this all explains my early blog for the day. 

While we have our (many) issues here in the Great Lakes state (starting and ending with the crap-headed gov), please refrain from using (and abusing) us in what is most definitely a southern boy brawl.  We aren't hurling northern and mid-western epithets at you boot wearers, please try and play nicely with us northerners, why don't ya.

Happy Birthday!

My handsome son, Brian, turns 26 years old in just under six-and-one-half hours!

Happy M*A*S*H*-iversary!

Just a couple of disjointed things

Yeah, I know. "What's new?"

:^P

Last night was a little nippy, as sleeping weather goes (if you like sleeping with the windows open), but because it never really got too warm in the house yesterday I had the windows closed, and had considered whether or not to set the furnace to a low temp and have it on standby - just in case.

As the temps fell through the low sixties by nine o'clock, and then well on into the low fifties by bedtime, I made the decision to set the furnace at a cool 66*F (knowing that the thermostat and the furnace are about two degrees off from one another).

I reasoned that by the time the interior temp of the house would have reached the mid-sixties (if it did) the furnace would keep it in our comfy summer sleeping range.

What I failed to remember about our little program-able thermostat was that there were four timed settings that needed to be overridden, and when I adjusted the temp at 10PM, that didn't mean it would still be in force at 7AM, when the program jumps to 71*F.

Oops!

I awoke to the sound of the furnace, rumbling and blowing, heating the house from whatever temp it had fallen to, to our balmy seventy-one degree setting.

Well, if nothing else, the cats really appreciated it. There was purring going on all over the place as they scrambled for kitty-happy heat vents!

To make matters worse, I then turned on the news to scope out the amended forecast for today, only to learn we were to experience high seventies (nearly 80*) today, and here I was essentially jumpstarting the warmup! So, I switched off the furnace then flicked on the attic fan to cool us off for the inevitable warm up!

What a rube! In a flash I sent the interior temp back to 66*F! (I despise you, Con$umers Power)

The other item is simply this:

Have you ever tried the Kroger brand rice cakes? They are delicious, and a bit less expensive for the quantity and quality. We especially love the "Yogurt & Berries" and the "Caramel" flavors! Give them a try, you won't be disappointed.

The hard part is to not love them until the bag is empty (in one sitting).

OK, I am outta here. Still cleaning and purging, and balancing those darned accounts....but I can see the end of the tunnel approaching! Next up, shifting furniture!!!

Have a good day, whatever you're doing.

M*A*S*H*-iversary

Has it really been forty years since the network premiere of the best television show EVER!?

40 years!

During its illustrious and storied run, M*A*S*H* won no fewer than 14 Emmys and 8 Golden Globes! Not many shows can boast of such a tremendous record. Fewer still even come close to either of those credentials! Eat your fake hearts out, you producers of "reality" TV.

Oh, how I miss the "four-oh-77th" and those wonderful characters. The writing was clever - even when heavy-handed - and the acting and direction were brilliant.

And what a cast!

Time for a M*A*S*H*-athon, dear friends. Meet me in front of the telly tomorrow and we'll hunker down for a good long time.

September 17, 1972...it was a very good year.

Hmmmm

There seems to be a lot of reminiscing going on with the blog entries over the past couple of days. Lots of hits on pieces going back to the creation of the blog - and the early years.

Julie Gaydos, are you looking for photos of yourself to post on FB? LOL You should know I ended up erasing a lot of them about a year ago (of everyone) from those SHS days - and I most likely will eliminate several more shortly.

You really should get yourself a camera (or a friend with a camera) and take more up-to-date pictures anyway. Quit living in the past. ;)

UPDATE

Turns out it probably wasn't Julie looking into those really old posts to find photos of herself for FB.

Whatever.

So, whoever you are....HELLO! Do you have any questions about anything thus far?; please don't hesitate to leave them as a comment. Or, simply send an email, and I will get back to you fairly quickly.

Clean up

Last night's dinner consisted of the leftover salmon, cut up and tossed into a pan of white sauce made with evaporated milk, chevre' cheese and herbs, and lightly sauteed onions and peas. All of that was ladled over Trader Joe's lemon and cracked pepper noodles.

[grunty-sigh] It was delicious! The perfect meal to end a perfect weather day.

Happiness on a plate! [sigh]

MEOW! [covered in grey velvet fur and wide green saucers for eyes]

It's early enough this morning, yet (now that fall is closer than ever, and the earth has shifted on its winter axis) that the sun hasn't begun to beam over the roof line to the edge of the porch, but Cleo doesn't know that. She can't be convinced to wait patiently, and wants what she wants - NOW. Wants what she has become accustomed to over the last four months - that after-breakfast sojourn to the "out" and her sunny spot in the grass, to roll and loll and eat and sniff the air and listen.

"Not yet," we tell her, but she trots to the door and waits; nose pressed to the seal, ears pricked and feet at the ready. If we don't move in her direction, she'll turn and give us the mournful meow, and that look.

The "I-don't-understand-what-you-don't-understand-why-aren't-we-outside-yet?-have-you-forgotten-how-to-open-the-door?" look.

It'll be at least three hours before the sun has reached the perfect position and dried her spot on the lawn enough to lie in, but you can't tell her that.

I want the "out", mom. Please. [blink]

Today will be warmer (as will tomorrow), in the mid-eighties say the weather weenies. Then, by weeks' end the temps will dip back into the seventies once more. YEA! Cool evenings and mildly temperate days - that's all I need. All I want, really; so I guess I can (sort of) empathize with the pup. [blink]

Today will consist of more cleaning up (a continuation of the past few days), de-cluttering, and bill paying. Perhaps a little more checkbook balancing, to boot!

Oh! [squeal of delight]

Dare I dream of it? Shall I utter it aloud?

Maybe even a bit of furniture reorg?

[squeal number two]

Let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we. Let's keep our heads, woman! 'One foot in front'...and all of that rot.

Still.......

Clean up on aisle three!

2008 says "merry Christmas" to me

Aahhh....it's honestly more like 2009 or 2010, really, but who's keeping track anyway?

I have wanted Bud's old tires moved out of the middle of the garage floor (to a less inconvenient spot) for quite some time now. Every time I've asked for his help in moving them - or for him to simply do it himself - I would come up against vague mumbled promises and grumbly attitude.

I can do without the 'tude!

It wasn't only that the tires were (have been) in the way all this time, but because they were useless and BALD and unsafe to use for any reason, I couldn't understand why he brought them home!

I could never figure out why he didn't have them removed from the rims and dispensed with when he finally bought himself a brand new set of tires. I mean, he....they...were all right there in the tire place!

Since that time (the advent of the new tires), many are the occasions when the suggestion had been made to throw the four wheels into the back of 'the Duke' and get the dirty deed done.

Every time I journeyed into the garage in a fit of cleaning (in hopes of carving out a place to park for the winter), I was stymied by those darned tires!

The great tower of tread-less rubber.

I could barely move them without straining something vital, and they were an even bigger nuisance to try and maneuver around.

So, yesterday, in a fit of whatever mood I was in, I dragged the boys outdoors and had them assist me with a little garage remodeling. Not much, mind you (nowhere near enough to my liking), but it was a fabulous 22 minutes!

We took the AC unit out of the LR and stored it; cleaned out a smattering of useless bits and pieces just laying about, reconfigured some of the larger standing items...and removed those darned tires before Bud could utter a noise.

I didn't give him a chance or a choice...just said grab 'em and let's load 'em up and get 'em stripped down to the rims! Today! [insert cracking whip noise here]

Well, long story medium-sized:

We got the tires to the dealer in short order, and the rims were laid bare in less than fifteen minutes - and for far less than I anticipated it would cost!

Without saying "I told you so", once we arrived home I simply told the boy "thank you" for getting that nasty task out of the way, and pointed to the 23" of floor space the rims have been allocated - on what may become his side of the garage (provided he can continue cleaning out a spot for his v-dub).

Ha! Merry Christmas, indeed.

Atrocities

It's NOT "wetten."

There's no such word in the English language! [hissing venomously]

We have "wet" and "dampen", and those would be appropriate and CORRECT, given you understand how to use the English language - you non-foreign-raised, Anglo, newscaster moron!

Mmmmm...nummers!

Made salmon, eggplant parmesan (in a crockpot, no less - after pan-frying the eggplant), and crudites with homemade tzadziki!

I feel good and the boys are happy, so something must have turned out right. ;)

Once upon a time

There was once a period in my life (my entire life, actually) where I could eat anything I chose without repercussions - of any sort. But I suppose too much of anything can be detrimental in some way, eh?

Even if the item in question is usually suggested to support a healthful diet....for a woman......of. a. certain......age.

Yes, even pistachios. [insert sinister music riff]

I love pistachios, and they love me. However, more than a modest handful at one time (per day) can lead to...well... . . . . . . .

...mud butt.

Activities

What do you do when you feel especially bitter?

I'm trying to work through my bitters by 'laying it out there' - and then cleaning.

Purging (more like).

I am mercilessly cleaning my space, and neatening the whole place, and throwing away my past cling-ons.

I am moving on - and hopefully upward, too....now that the load is lighter.

Began the purging and cleaning yesterday afternoon, and I am hopeful it will give me a clearer mind and a more positive aura (and a more peaceful heart). I need all three in the worst way.

Have a good Sunday, no matter what you are doing.

Now, where's that shovel?

What's this!?!?!?!!!!

"Dr. Goodluck Davis" wants to give me a loan!

Lil ol' me!?

Be still my SPAM-hatin', 4sshole-identifyin', dirtbag-proof, non-rose-colored-glasses-wearin' heart!

And of course, he's not the only one, but it was the most amusing name in the SPAM bucket this morning, so he gets the bull's eye spot today.

Congratulations, Dr. Goodluck Davis!

And one more thing

This venting is more for my peace of mind to just "get it out there," so if you want to skip this post that would be my (strong) suggestion.

OK, well, in all honesty, probably several more 'things'.....but I promise this will be brief (-er).

1) So, she says "I was enjoying getting to know you."

May I point out, she really never got to "know [me]" as she was extremely busy running her mouth about all of her woes, everything the world was doing 'to her', why me-ing and sobbing over everyting bad, brought on by her own mismanagement and stupidity over the years -- and recent months.

If you can't pay your mortgage or your taxes some day.....it will catch up to you. But by all means, buy and keep a frigging-expensive car you don't need and can't afford either! That'll make it all better.

Oh, and she was so busy lamenting and venting that she never asked about my life or family, except enough to have points to commiserate on.

2) "...I didn't foresee you getting up upset and blowing me off."

I didn't get "upset," per se', I simply did what she had been instructing me to do all of this year, and sporadically over the past several years (when I was begged to watch her house and "let me know if/when [insert random child name here] shows up at my house or goes in").

I tried to stop the loud music one of the girlfriends of the returning addict son, and when I could accomplish nothing on my own I contacted Boohoo Pam. She was online posting diet homilies on FB, so I tried messaging and emailing.

No word from her sent me to step two (her idea, all that time ago) - call the cops! I contentedly waited (because it wasn't an emergency), and eventually, the noise was addressed and taken care of.

May I further point out, that even after the boy came over to complain about my complaining (about current gf's noise), I loaned them tables to use for their lackluster attempt at a garage sale.

And 'further' further point out that I didn't 'blow her off' in any way, shape, or form. We ("me and mine") went about our ensuing days as we normally have done and still do - coming and going, trying to make eye contact and wave (if appropriate), while she hid in the shadows and acted as she always has. When she wanted or needed something there was contact, otherwise, she had no use for me/us.

3) As for the "actually, I should be the one upset, but I never stay that way..." garbage, "...I am sorry you think we are such bad people; I know we are not" tripe is projecting her thoughts and not a reflection of mine. Hey, good, free, vaudeville theater/entertainment is good free entertainment, man. She made a spectacle of that family, nobody else. When she needed a hug and a shoulder, she came over and asked for one, then spent hours hiding here from her son (with his phone) while he lay passed out on her floor.

I tried to tell her to pray and believe, to keep moving forward. She waffled and bemoaned and cried wolf and made snap decisions and then had a mega load of regrets -- and then would repeat it all week after week.

My sons are not issues or problems or out of control. God has blessed me with the willingness and instinct to keep them on the right track when all around us things and people could have badly influenced them; and He provided good family friends to help guide them and listen to them when my sons needed it to not be mom. He has been merciful and I have been a diligent parent. They are fine young men!

It's life! Stop putting your woes and ill thoughts at my doorstep! Grow up and try to behave as a human and not a sniveling dog. Put your head up and shoulders back and walk upright in the sun. Stop cowering and pointing fingers and assuming what YOU DON'T KNOW!

Obviously, you must think you are 'that sort' of person or you wouldn't be so "sorry" and apologetic, nor would you feel compelled to wonder what other folks are wondering.

4) Yes, hopefully a much quieter family will move in once you're gone, and a much more normal-behaving, friendly, more affable, less whiny, more responsible sort of people will find their way into the neighborhood...but time will tell.

Okey doke, so if you didn't heed my warning and went on to read this post anyway, and now you want your time back, forget it! I can't get mine back either, so I suppose we should all just move along. Tomorrow will be a better day.

Sorry, Jean

Guess venting last night wasn't enough. I had to get it out of my system, once and for all.

I'm feeling much better, now.

Go figure

Trying to figure out why it is that when I have a day where there is absolutely nothing planned, - no obstructions, appointments, worries, have-ta-do's, family obligations, etc. - why it is that the weather feels the need to toss a kink in the works. Why it gets in the way. Why it works against me.

Argh! Blast! Dagnabbit! Confound it! Poop!

Yes, I am aware this all makes me sound the eentsiest bit paranoid, but hey! If the humidity fits....

I've had to take a break (when there is no time to waste) and turn on the AC to suck the humidity out of the house just so I can quilt.

Sheesh [and grumble].

Day 2

Had a brief - and somewhat lackluster - breakfast with Brian. He was "sort of" hungry, but not too interested in eating. I suggested oatmeal or Cream of Wheat (yes, brand name and therefore capitalized) and toast. Something light but likely to stick with him (and in him) for a bit this morning.

He chose oatmeal (I despise oatmeal) and I had the toast and peanut butter, A glass of milk for each; he had tea a little earlier.

We made small talk. The cats mewed for more food and made nuisances of themselves.

The morning has been still and overcast, and you can feel the humidity creeping upward almost by the minute. It's fairly quiet in the neighborhood - a nice change.

I put a few more lines of stitching into the commissioned piece, then realized I used the wrong color thread for that area, and had to pu......

Spoke too soon. Some idiot garage-saler pulled up into the driveway across the street and honked, because their door wasn't open and the shit wasn't on display! They honked!! Can you imagine the gall? Of course, this wench across the street (A.K.A. Redneck Theater) has a sign out at the main street with no time listed, and folks are used to eight or nine A.M. start times for these things.

But to pull up to a house and honk?! Come on!

She left her addict son in charge of it last weekend, and he decided to open the doors at 11AM, putting the sign out at the main street around 10:30. Rolled the tent flaps down around 4:30PM or so, and was surprised not to have made any money! Then, decided to pull the signs and do nothing on Sunday!

Ah, well. To each his own, I suppose.

The honking cars pulled away after a shouted exchange of "when do you open?" and "we open around ten" (yes, there were two cars), and then the garage door creaked open about four minutes later.

It's now a full fifteen minutes past the honking, and the garage door is now closed; the boy has jumped in a car...to go pull the signs I imagine. How enterprising!

Yup, RNT mom is a fine example for her children. It will be a shame to see them leave the neighborhood. [mock sincerity or extreme sarcasm - you choose]

10:11A.M. - The Sunday calm is shattered, and a squirrel in the maple out front is annoyed and scolding the world.

Well, I've got things to do today which includes leaving the house soon, so I guess I will have to ask Karl to fill me in on the rest of the RNT swan song.

Yeah, yeah

Welcome to September.

Whatever.