Another one of my holiday faves...
"New Years Eve"
'Twas the night before New Years and all through our pad,
We were set to go partying and that made us glad.
Dining with friends and partying hard,
I was planning on dancing a full dance card.
Waiting for midnight, down the hours we counted,
As the evening passed, our excitement mounted.
With Babe in her evening wear and I in my tux,
We both felt great, like a million bucks.
Then over the P.A., the dj cried out,
"It's time to dance, let's 'Twist & Shout'!"
So we hit the dance floor and got into a groove,
Twisting and shouting we busted a move.
We line danced and jitterbugged and discoed and hopped,
We shagged and shuffled to a little bee-bop.
Then all of a sudden the countdown began,
We prepared to celebrate with our noisemakers in hand.
The ball began, to make it's decent,
And to that great sphere our attention was lent.
Balloons were falling, confetti was thrown,
The atmosphere was festive all around the town.
"Auld Lang Syne", as the tradition goes,
But what are the lyrics, who really knows?
A toast and a kiss to the one I love most,
This scene'd be repeated later, out on the coast.
It's now 12:01, and a new years began,
Happy New Years to you and to all of your kin.
Friday, December 30, 2005
Thursday, December 29, 2005
I'm such a bone-head!
I swear I'm such a bone-head!
Ever have a premonition that you're going to do something (usually something stupid), and yet you just can't stop yourself from doing it?
I stopped at the BP station on the way home to fill up my tank. The temperature had dropped drastically (since that morning) and the wind was blowing. The light jacket I had on was little protection, so once I had the nozzle in the tank, I got back into the car to get out of the wind. I stuck the key in the ignition and turned it just enough to make the dash lights come on, and I watched the gas gauge needle rising.
While sitting there, I thought to myself, "I should really be careful, or else I'm liable to lock my keys in the car."
Once the pump shut off, I got out and finished the job, turned to get in my car, and sure enough!, I'd locked my keys in the car, in the ignition with the key turned over, draining the battery.
GRRRR!!!
And my cell phone was lying in the console. Double GRRRR-GRRRR!!!!
I went in and begged the use of the store phone, called the husband. It took 2 phone calls to find him, but I started barking orders to go directly home, NOW, get the other key and come rescue me. So then I had to stand there and wait. It seemed like an eternity, but in all reality, it was probably only 5 minutes 'til my knight in shining armor arrived.
Had it not been so cold out, I'd have probably walked the half mile to the house, climbed the fence (reminiscent of last year's big snow when I was locked out of the house), gone in the back door, then walked back to the BP. But I wasn't up to getting hypothermia. Brr!
If only I'd "listen" to my premonitions, I could save myself so much hassle sometimes.
Ever have a premonition that you're going to do something (usually something stupid), and yet you just can't stop yourself from doing it?
I stopped at the BP station on the way home to fill up my tank. The temperature had dropped drastically (since that morning) and the wind was blowing. The light jacket I had on was little protection, so once I had the nozzle in the tank, I got back into the car to get out of the wind. I stuck the key in the ignition and turned it just enough to make the dash lights come on, and I watched the gas gauge needle rising.
While sitting there, I thought to myself, "I should really be careful, or else I'm liable to lock my keys in the car."
Once the pump shut off, I got out and finished the job, turned to get in my car, and sure enough!, I'd locked my keys in the car, in the ignition with the key turned over, draining the battery.
GRRRR!!!
And my cell phone was lying in the console. Double GRRRR-GRRRR!!!!
I went in and begged the use of the store phone, called the husband. It took 2 phone calls to find him, but I started barking orders to go directly home, NOW, get the other key and come rescue me. So then I had to stand there and wait. It seemed like an eternity, but in all reality, it was probably only 5 minutes 'til my knight in shining armor arrived.
Had it not been so cold out, I'd have probably walked the half mile to the house, climbed the fence (reminiscent of last year's big snow when I was locked out of the house), gone in the back door, then walked back to the BP. But I wasn't up to getting hypothermia. Brr!
If only I'd "listen" to my premonitions, I could save myself so much hassle sometimes.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Inquiring Minds
Inquiring minds want to know...
Why is it that when you apply lipstick, it never stays put for very long? Seems I'm always having to reapply it.
However, no matter how many times I run a cup/glass through the dishwasher, there's still a lipstick smudge on the rim?
Why is it that when you apply lipstick, it never stays put for very long? Seems I'm always having to reapply it.
However, no matter how many times I run a cup/glass through the dishwasher, there's still a lipstick smudge on the rim?
I just love...
I just love... Peanut Butter Fudge.
I just love... the feel of clean sheets. If I had the time that June Cleaver had, I'd change the sheets everyday too, just to get that feeling!
I just love... stepping outside on a winter's day, in the wee hours of the morning, and being pleasantly surprised at the mild temperatures (like I was this morning!!)
I just love... the feel of clean sheets. If I had the time that June Cleaver had, I'd change the sheets everyday too, just to get that feeling!
I just love... stepping outside on a winter's day, in the wee hours of the morning, and being pleasantly surprised at the mild temperatures (like I was this morning!!)
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Politically IN-Correct
Our society has become so caught-up in being "politically correct", that it's just gotten out of control, and it's ruining everyone else's fun and goodtimes.
One of our local fire departments recently purchased several of those blow-up characters that have become all the rage, and sat them out on the lawn. One of these blow-ups had "Noel" spelled out between a couple of cute characters. After it had been on display for a few days, some kill-joy, politically correct person called the firehouse to complain about the display of "Noel" on property that is paid for by tax-payers.
Can you imagine?
The chief asked the department's attorney for advice and the attorney told him to take it down. Not only that, but to either take down another blow-up or else cover up the wording... it was a penquin holding a sign that read "Merry Christmas". So the chief had one of the firefighters go out and tape a "Happy Holidays" sign over it.
Again I ask, can you imagine?
These things didn't used to be a problem. Where did we go wrong in the nation that it became offensive to say "Merry Christmas"? It's only been in the past few years that this became so. And damn our government for caving-in to these kill-joys. Not to mention the jurors that decided the complaintants were right and awarded them in their law-suits.
This is ridiculous!!
Much to my horror, I realized too late, after our Christmas cards had been mailed out, that our cards didn't have any sentiment on them at all. Just listed our names. Well, at least I closed our "newsletter" with Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
In the future, I intend to be as politically IN-correct as I possibly can!!
Belated MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone!!
One of our local fire departments recently purchased several of those blow-up characters that have become all the rage, and sat them out on the lawn. One of these blow-ups had "Noel" spelled out between a couple of cute characters. After it had been on display for a few days, some kill-joy, politically correct person called the firehouse to complain about the display of "Noel" on property that is paid for by tax-payers.
Can you imagine?
The chief asked the department's attorney for advice and the attorney told him to take it down. Not only that, but to either take down another blow-up or else cover up the wording... it was a penquin holding a sign that read "Merry Christmas". So the chief had one of the firefighters go out and tape a "Happy Holidays" sign over it.
Again I ask, can you imagine?
These things didn't used to be a problem. Where did we go wrong in the nation that it became offensive to say "Merry Christmas"? It's only been in the past few years that this became so. And damn our government for caving-in to these kill-joys. Not to mention the jurors that decided the complaintants were right and awarded them in their law-suits.
This is ridiculous!!
Much to my horror, I realized too late, after our Christmas cards had been mailed out, that our cards didn't have any sentiment on them at all. Just listed our names. Well, at least I closed our "newsletter" with Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
In the future, I intend to be as politically IN-correct as I possibly can!!
Belated MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone!!
dis-Organized Living
As we were so busy on Saturday and Sunday, none of the laundry got done... thank goodness I was off work yesterday so I could catch it up.
We stripped the sheets off of the king-size bed, and I gave the husband the chore of taking the quilts to the firehouse and washing them in the industrial size washer.
I went to the linen closet, opened the door and cringed as an avalanche of linens started sliding towards me.
Over the years, I've attempted on several occasions to organize this closet, going as far as to take everything out, fold &/or re-fold it, then put it back on a shelf... either putting like sets together on a shelf w/miscellaneous sheets on another, or else putting all pillow cases on one shelf, all king sheets on another, all other sized sheets on yet another, and so on. Somehow, this organization never lasts more than a month or so. By the time sheets have been changed a couple of times, washed/dried/folded, then put away, they never get put back where they belong, and half the time they're barely folded. Especially the fitted sheets! Many are the times I've given up and just wadded them into a ball and stuffed them in the closet, only to have them come tumbling down on me the next time I opened the door. **sigh**
So now, as I stood before the tangle of clean linens, I started digging through the shelves, looking for 2 king sized sheets. I didn't even care if they matched. I just wanted to get the bed made.
I found 2 flat sheets and one set of pillow cases that matched one of the sheets. This sheet I wrapped around the mattress... in truth, flat sheets seem to work better anyway, as the fitted sheets always seem to come off during the middle of the night. I don't know what my husband does in his sleep, but more often than not, the fitted sheet is in a tangle underneath of him come morning. But I'm getting away from the main story, sorry!
Anyway, there were still several "naked" pillows awaiting to be dressed. I returned to the linen closet and began digging. I'd pull one out, hold it up, only to find out that it was the wrong size, then refold it and stuff it back in the closet. After I'd done this a couple of times, I stopped even folding the things and just wadded them up and threw them on the top shelf. I finally found the necessary sizes and as I started to shut the door, the avalanche started anew. I quickly shoved the items back in and slammed the door shut on them.
After all the pillows had been dressed and tossed on the bed, I stood back and looked at the dizzying array of colors and patterns. Very few of them matched anything! I just shook my head and remembered the mattress commercial for Schmitt's furniture that said, "if the mis-match doesn't show, it isn't a mis-match at all". So throw a blanket on the bed and hide the mis-matched linens.
----
Back to the linen closet... that closet is just a good example of how John & I live our lives though: mis-matched furniture, mis-matched dogs, mis-matched dishes, an avalanche of papers and junk stacked on our dining room table and our bedroom furniture. It's people like us that truly needed the help of Organized Living. Too bad the store by our house went out of business. Guess we'll continue to live the life of dis-organized living.
We stripped the sheets off of the king-size bed, and I gave the husband the chore of taking the quilts to the firehouse and washing them in the industrial size washer.
I went to the linen closet, opened the door and cringed as an avalanche of linens started sliding towards me.
Over the years, I've attempted on several occasions to organize this closet, going as far as to take everything out, fold &/or re-fold it, then put it back on a shelf... either putting like sets together on a shelf w/miscellaneous sheets on another, or else putting all pillow cases on one shelf, all king sheets on another, all other sized sheets on yet another, and so on. Somehow, this organization never lasts more than a month or so. By the time sheets have been changed a couple of times, washed/dried/folded, then put away, they never get put back where they belong, and half the time they're barely folded. Especially the fitted sheets! Many are the times I've given up and just wadded them into a ball and stuffed them in the closet, only to have them come tumbling down on me the next time I opened the door. **sigh**
So now, as I stood before the tangle of clean linens, I started digging through the shelves, looking for 2 king sized sheets. I didn't even care if they matched. I just wanted to get the bed made.
I found 2 flat sheets and one set of pillow cases that matched one of the sheets. This sheet I wrapped around the mattress... in truth, flat sheets seem to work better anyway, as the fitted sheets always seem to come off during the middle of the night. I don't know what my husband does in his sleep, but more often than not, the fitted sheet is in a tangle underneath of him come morning. But I'm getting away from the main story, sorry!
Anyway, there were still several "naked" pillows awaiting to be dressed. I returned to the linen closet and began digging. I'd pull one out, hold it up, only to find out that it was the wrong size, then refold it and stuff it back in the closet. After I'd done this a couple of times, I stopped even folding the things and just wadded them up and threw them on the top shelf. I finally found the necessary sizes and as I started to shut the door, the avalanche started anew. I quickly shoved the items back in and slammed the door shut on them.
After all the pillows had been dressed and tossed on the bed, I stood back and looked at the dizzying array of colors and patterns. Very few of them matched anything! I just shook my head and remembered the mattress commercial for Schmitt's furniture that said, "if the mis-match doesn't show, it isn't a mis-match at all". So throw a blanket on the bed and hide the mis-matched linens.
----
Back to the linen closet... that closet is just a good example of how John & I live our lives though: mis-matched furniture, mis-matched dogs, mis-matched dishes, an avalanche of papers and junk stacked on our dining room table and our bedroom furniture. It's people like us that truly needed the help of Organized Living. Too bad the store by our house went out of business. Guess we'll continue to live the life of dis-organized living.
Friday, December 23, 2005
Who is Chester Drawers?
Out of the blue this morning, a conversation I'd had with a former acquaintance several years ago, suddenly popped into my head. I don't know why, or what triggered the memory, it was just one of those random things I suppose. The thought did make me smile, as I remembered the topic of our conversation: "Who is Chester Drawers?"
This acquaintance and I were making plans to go shopping and to dinner, but she couldn't commit to an exact time to meet, as she said, "I've got to wait for this guy to come by and pick up this Chester Drawers he bought from me."
So I asked, "Who is Chester Drawers?" The part I didn't ask aloud is "why did you sell him?"
She just gave me the oddest look and said, "you know, a Chester Drawers... the piece of furniture that's usually goes with a bedroom suit."
"Oh!" I exclaimed, "You mean a 'chest of drawers'?"
She still had an odd expression on her face. Then said, "I thought it was called chester-drawers?"
"Um, no. I think the proper term is chest of drawers. But I guess if someone says the phrase fast enough, I suppose I could see how you'd think it was 'Chester' instead of 'chest of'."
This was the first person I'd ever heard call that item of furniture by a given-name, but I can honestly say that I have since heard a few more people since then call it the same thing. Mostly people that were born/raised in the country, or the south rather.
Who is Chester Drawers?
This acquaintance and I were making plans to go shopping and to dinner, but she couldn't commit to an exact time to meet, as she said, "I've got to wait for this guy to come by and pick up this Chester Drawers he bought from me."
So I asked, "Who is Chester Drawers?" The part I didn't ask aloud is "why did you sell him?"
She just gave me the oddest look and said, "you know, a Chester Drawers... the piece of furniture that's usually goes with a bedroom suit."
"Oh!" I exclaimed, "You mean a 'chest of drawers'?"
She still had an odd expression on her face. Then said, "I thought it was called chester-drawers?"
"Um, no. I think the proper term is chest of drawers. But I guess if someone says the phrase fast enough, I suppose I could see how you'd think it was 'Chester' instead of 'chest of'."
This was the first person I'd ever heard call that item of furniture by a given-name, but I can honestly say that I have since heard a few more people since then call it the same thing. Mostly people that were born/raised in the country, or the south rather.
Who is Chester Drawers?
Monday, December 19, 2005
Best-Worst Day
Do you believe in fate? Destiny? That we are all born with a pre-determined , if unknown to us, date and place of death?
Saturday, 12/17/05, I cried off and on the entire day. Sometimes uncontrollably for several minutes, at other times, tearless but brief sobs. Our lives can change in the blink of an eye, when we least expect it, and in a way we'd never imagine.
John & I loaded all three of the dogs into my car that morning and headed over to his dad's house. It was the first time we had ever had all three dogs in the car together at one time. We were going to have our pictures made to use in our Christmas card. This should have been a cheerful, happy occasion.
Should have been...
We arrived and I backed into the parking space. I wanted to put the leashes on the dogs before allowing them out of the car, then to walk them around the property while waiting for our photographer to show up. But the husband had other ideas. He wanted to just let them loose to explore. We were parked in the middle of five acres, set well back from the road, so he felt they'd be fine. I argued against this, but against my better judgement, finally gave in and allowed them to roam free.
They immediately scattered; Olivia going along the house, Bootsy and Eliott heading over the hill towards the creek bottom. I yelled at John to keep an eye on Olivia and I'd stay with the other two.
The big kids scrambled this way and that, sniffing and exploring the new sights and smells. As they were getting too far ahead of me, I called to them and started running back the other way. They followed, then flew by me, headed for the brush-entwined fence row. Bootsy lept into it, then finding her path blocked, headed up the hill, behind the barn, following the property line. Eliott followed her lead and they quickly out-distanced me.
I caught up with John at the barn and threw him a leash so we could at least keep Olivia from following them.
We were both screaming for the dogs to return to us, but for all our efforts, you'd have thought they were as deaf as Olivia.
John headed up the hill in the direction they'd ran, and I ran around the front of the house. As I was rounding the corner of the house, a feeling of dread grew deep in the pit of my stomach. I was hearing car horns blowing. I don't know if I actually heard tires squealing on the pavement, or if that was my imagination, but I definately heard the sudden and rapid deceleration of the traffic out on the busy 4-lane highway. I heard John yelling that they were out on the road, at the very instant I spotted both dogs on the far side of the highway.
Fearing the outcome, I turned away from the scene before me, my heart beating out of my chest. John yelled at me to get the car, but I was already running for it. I know I was screaming, but I don't know if I was actually screaming out loud or if it was just screaming inside my head.
I also don't know where Olivia was throughout this time... whether I'd had her with me, whether she had been with John, or whether she was just wondering around. I just know that when I arrived at the car, she was there. I literally picked her up and shoved her inside, jumped in myself and roared off down the driveway. I was gasping for air, unable to really breath.
I was hoping for the best, but fearing the worst.
Even if they hadn't been hit by any of the cars, the terrain on the other side of the road was very steep and treacherous, filled with cliffs, caves and sink holes. I feared they'd be lost or killed falling off a cliff.
Before I'd gotten half way down the long driveway, I saw John waving his arms and to my relief, saw Eliott running towards me. I quickly stopped the car and jumped out. He ran straight to me, as if he was afraid of being left behind. I couldn't get a leash on him quick enough! I opened the door, thankfully Olivia didn't try to jump out, and he jumped in, ready to go for a car ride.
I didn't dwell on my good fortune at his return, as I knew Bootsy was still loose.
I slammed the door shut before he'd barely had time to get in, then turned towards John, asking if he'd seen which way Bootsy had gone.
He pointed towards me and said she was behind me. I turned to look and sure enough, she was standing about 15 feet behind the car. I called to her and she came running and gave me one of her famous hugs.
She and I just stood behind the car, my arms wrapped tightly around her, hugging her and not letting go. The strength had gone out of me and holding onto her was all I could do, while sobbing uncontrollably, thankful that I once again had all three of my babies back with me. My eyes couldn't even summon forth any tears I was so emotionally exhausted.
John came and walked her back to the parking area, and I drove Eliott & Livvie back up there.
This time, all three dogs were kept on a leash and by our sides.
In the future it is for certain that I'll let my better judgement rule, instead of giving into someone else's begging and pleading.
Once we arrived home, all three dogs passed out in the floor as if totally exhausted. I just sat down in the chair and finally the full impact of what I'd nearly lost hit me and the tears came.
A couple of more times throughout the day, I'd look at my babies and start crying all over again.
For a few minutes during the late morning, I experienced the worst day of my life. I know it could've turned out worse, but the hell I experienced 'til I had them back with me was unimagineable.
As my childrens lives were spared that day, I can only it wasn't yet their time. I don't believe they were destined to die in the middle of US 42.
Because their lives were spared, and I was able to bring them all back home to love on some more, it turned out to be the best-worst day of my life.
Saturday, 12/17/05, I cried off and on the entire day. Sometimes uncontrollably for several minutes, at other times, tearless but brief sobs. Our lives can change in the blink of an eye, when we least expect it, and in a way we'd never imagine.
John & I loaded all three of the dogs into my car that morning and headed over to his dad's house. It was the first time we had ever had all three dogs in the car together at one time. We were going to have our pictures made to use in our Christmas card. This should have been a cheerful, happy occasion.
Should have been...
We arrived and I backed into the parking space. I wanted to put the leashes on the dogs before allowing them out of the car, then to walk them around the property while waiting for our photographer to show up. But the husband had other ideas. He wanted to just let them loose to explore. We were parked in the middle of five acres, set well back from the road, so he felt they'd be fine. I argued against this, but against my better judgement, finally gave in and allowed them to roam free.
They immediately scattered; Olivia going along the house, Bootsy and Eliott heading over the hill towards the creek bottom. I yelled at John to keep an eye on Olivia and I'd stay with the other two.
The big kids scrambled this way and that, sniffing and exploring the new sights and smells. As they were getting too far ahead of me, I called to them and started running back the other way. They followed, then flew by me, headed for the brush-entwined fence row. Bootsy lept into it, then finding her path blocked, headed up the hill, behind the barn, following the property line. Eliott followed her lead and they quickly out-distanced me.
I caught up with John at the barn and threw him a leash so we could at least keep Olivia from following them.
We were both screaming for the dogs to return to us, but for all our efforts, you'd have thought they were as deaf as Olivia.
John headed up the hill in the direction they'd ran, and I ran around the front of the house. As I was rounding the corner of the house, a feeling of dread grew deep in the pit of my stomach. I was hearing car horns blowing. I don't know if I actually heard tires squealing on the pavement, or if that was my imagination, but I definately heard the sudden and rapid deceleration of the traffic out on the busy 4-lane highway. I heard John yelling that they were out on the road, at the very instant I spotted both dogs on the far side of the highway.
Fearing the outcome, I turned away from the scene before me, my heart beating out of my chest. John yelled at me to get the car, but I was already running for it. I know I was screaming, but I don't know if I was actually screaming out loud or if it was just screaming inside my head.
I also don't know where Olivia was throughout this time... whether I'd had her with me, whether she had been with John, or whether she was just wondering around. I just know that when I arrived at the car, she was there. I literally picked her up and shoved her inside, jumped in myself and roared off down the driveway. I was gasping for air, unable to really breath.
I was hoping for the best, but fearing the worst.
Even if they hadn't been hit by any of the cars, the terrain on the other side of the road was very steep and treacherous, filled with cliffs, caves and sink holes. I feared they'd be lost or killed falling off a cliff.
Before I'd gotten half way down the long driveway, I saw John waving his arms and to my relief, saw Eliott running towards me. I quickly stopped the car and jumped out. He ran straight to me, as if he was afraid of being left behind. I couldn't get a leash on him quick enough! I opened the door, thankfully Olivia didn't try to jump out, and he jumped in, ready to go for a car ride.
I didn't dwell on my good fortune at his return, as I knew Bootsy was still loose.
I slammed the door shut before he'd barely had time to get in, then turned towards John, asking if he'd seen which way Bootsy had gone.
He pointed towards me and said she was behind me. I turned to look and sure enough, she was standing about 15 feet behind the car. I called to her and she came running and gave me one of her famous hugs.
She and I just stood behind the car, my arms wrapped tightly around her, hugging her and not letting go. The strength had gone out of me and holding onto her was all I could do, while sobbing uncontrollably, thankful that I once again had all three of my babies back with me. My eyes couldn't even summon forth any tears I was so emotionally exhausted.
John came and walked her back to the parking area, and I drove Eliott & Livvie back up there.
This time, all three dogs were kept on a leash and by our sides.
In the future it is for certain that I'll let my better judgement rule, instead of giving into someone else's begging and pleading.
Once we arrived home, all three dogs passed out in the floor as if totally exhausted. I just sat down in the chair and finally the full impact of what I'd nearly lost hit me and the tears came.
A couple of more times throughout the day, I'd look at my babies and start crying all over again.
For a few minutes during the late morning, I experienced the worst day of my life. I know it could've turned out worse, but the hell I experienced 'til I had them back with me was unimagineable.
As my childrens lives were spared that day, I can only it wasn't yet their time. I don't believe they were destined to die in the middle of US 42.
Because their lives were spared, and I was able to bring them all back home to love on some more, it turned out to be the best-worst day of my life.
Friday, December 16, 2005
Schooling
Another round of Advanced-Beginners obedience school is now behind us. Olivia graduated (for the 2nd time) last night. She'll take the next three weeks off and start again on January 7th, in the newly formed Saturday morning classes.
We'll also be enrolling Bootsy in Beginners-Agility classes. If any of you could ever see her zipping around the backyard and leaping over obstacles, patio furniture, etc., then you'd understand our reasoning behind this move. Her classes also are on Saturdays, at noon.
Eliott will begin the Advanced-Beginners class too, but probably on Thursday evenings. I tried the 3 dogs in one day once before, and that just doesn't work!
We'll also be enrolling Bootsy in Beginners-Agility classes. If any of you could ever see her zipping around the backyard and leaping over obstacles, patio furniture, etc., then you'd understand our reasoning behind this move. Her classes also are on Saturdays, at noon.
Eliott will begin the Advanced-Beginners class too, but probably on Thursday evenings. I tried the 3 dogs in one day once before, and that just doesn't work!
Thursday, December 15, 2005
"Artie & Millie"
As I was rooting around my dust covered desk at home this morning, looking for a particular item, I found a bunch of old stories, emails and poems clipped together from a few years ago. Many of the stories/e-mails I'd totally forgotten about, and as I leafed through them, I got a chuckle as the memories came flooding back.
Over the next few days, I'll share some of these stories with you. They were good for a laugh or a bit of drama when they happened...
This is the story of "Artie & Millie"... originally entitled "The Case of the Disappearing Neighbors..."
Part I (originally written on Wednesday, April 23, 2003, 5:50 a.m.)
I last saw our neighbor, "Artie", on Friday afternoon. We spoke for a moment about the camping trip John & I were headed on, then I left to take Smokey to the kennel. Artie never mentioned anything about he or his wife "Millie", going away for the weekend, and I didn't think to ask if they had plans to go visit their families for the (Easter) holiday.
We got home on Sunday afternoon (Easter Sunday), and there was no sign of Artie and Millie, which wasn't unusual, except that their Sunday paper was still lying in the driveway. I assumed they'd either left early that morning or perhaps the day before to go to Evansville to visit kin. As John set about mowing the grass, I started doing laundry and jumped in the shower. Once I was cleaned up, I went outside to check on John's progress, only to find two Jefferson County police officers circling Artie & Millie's house. Now that was unusual! Slightly alarmed and more than a little curious, we had to walk over and ask the officers, "What's up?" (like it was really any of our business?)
It was like pulling teeth to get an answer out of them. One of the officers mumbled an answer that neither of us really caught as they were walking back to their patrol cars. Just something about an emergency call. We thought that their ADT alarm had perhaps been tripped and suggested that the cat had done it. They squawked on their radios for a moment then went back to the house and knocked on the door. Needless to say, several of the neighbors were on their front porches by now, pulled away from their Easter dinners by curiousity.
Finally, one of the officers asked if we knew the whereabouts of Artie & Millie. We explained that we'd only been home a short time ourselves, but imagined that they'd gone to E-ville to visit their parents, and would probably be back tonight. I went and opened their mailbox and sure enough, Saturdays mail was still in there. That confirmed to me that they'd left the day before. I picked up the Sunday paper and tucked it into the mailbox so it wouldn't be obvious that no one was home. Again we asked what the problem was and finally the officer told us that they had a report of a 911 call coming from inside the house, but were getting no response at the door, and the dispatcher kept getting a busy signal when he tried to call their number back. Now we were just a bit alarmed.
I said, "Hold on, let me call the former owners and get the combination to the garage door opener. Maybe Artie never changed it when they moved in and we'll be able to get in the house." Little did I know that they didn't even have a number-pad entry system! I telephoned the Russell's, but got no answer. Remembering that the officer said the phone was busy when they tried calling back, I dialed Artie's phone number and it just kept ringing until the answering machine picke up. I looked at the officer and said, "It's not busy now."
So he asked, "What number did you dial?" I gave him their number and he called the dispatcher to the get the number the 911 call had come from. Artie & Millie's number had a different exchange then the one dispatch had, they weren't even close! Hello!! Gee, makes me feel safe knowing that central dispatch doesn't know what phone numbers belong to which households.
The officers thanked us and said there was obviously some mistake. Duh, do you think?! They got in their cars and went on their merry way, and meanwhile, somehere out in the county, some poor soul that did make the 911 call was now probably lying on their floor, half dead, waiting for the police to show up.
By now, another neighbor, "Rob", had walked over to get the sccop. We filled him in and he said that indeed he'd seen Artie out working in the yard on Saturday afternoon. We all agreed that they'd probably be back this evening, and dismissed the whole event from our minds.
Until...
Monday eveing, after returning from the grocery, it still appearred as if no one had been home at Artie & Millie's, so I checked their mail and sure enough, Monday's mail had been stuffed in on top of Saturday's and the newspaper. I took it all into the house with me and decided they'd just taken an extra day off to spend a long weekend with their families. I fully expected to see them the next morning as we all headed off for work.
But...
Not so.
It's now Wednesday morning and their mail is piling up on our counter top. Not that I mind picking their mail up for them, I just wish they'd ask us or tell us they'll be gone for a few days, not assume we'll get it. Or perhaps they don't care if it piles up in their mailbox, but for Pete's sake, what a dead giveaway to thieves that there's no one at home. The thing that has me really concerned is that if they've gone away, who's taking care of their cat? They usually have a friend that comes over and feeds their kitty, but we've seen not hide nor hair of a soul. Now I'm wondering if maybe they didn't have a second phone line that we didn't know about and maybe they had made a 911 call.
My truly over-active imagination has gone into overdrive and theorized that they were really in the witness protection program all this time and something happened over the weekend to compormise their safety and they've been relocated with new identities and we'll never see them again.
The detective in me can't stand not knowing, so my plan later this morning is to call Millie's employer and see if they'll confirm whether or not she's on vacation and when she's scheduled to come back to work. I'll be sure & let everyone know how this saga unfolds...
Part II (written 04/23/03, 10:50 PM)
Well, shortly after arriving at work this morning, I called the real estate office that Millie works at and plead my case to the secretary of the vice-pres. of sales. I'm sure she thought I was nuts and passed me off to some flunky whose desk was next to Millie's and said she'd be more likely to help me.
I repeated my story, sounding I'm sure a bit like some raving lunatic, and on the verge of tears by the time I'd told the girl what was going on. The co-worker finally confirmed that Millie had taken a few days off and was expected back to work on Thursday, but not before asking the secret-code question, after all, I could've been some criminal that had been casing the house. Her co-worker asked, "Oh, are you the neighbor that has the...?" She paused at this point and I assumed maybe I was supposed to fill in the blank and guessed at the answer, "Great Danes?"
"Yeah, that's it!" It was after that that she confirmed they'd gone out of town and taken both the dog and cat with them. I was only slightly relieved. Only the sight of them at home would completely ease my mind.
After arriving home this evening, I was still nervous that they weren't home, and went to collect their mail. All evening long, I kept the front door open so I could see them, or at the very least, Smokey would bark at them when they pulled in their driveway.
Finally, finally, at 9:58 pm, they came home. Hurray!!! I gave them a couple of minutes to unload some of the stuff from their car, then marched over with their mail and told them that if they ever did that again, I would beat them both with a wet noodle. I relayed all that had happened since Sunday, starting with the police and ending with my call to her employer. They appreciated the concern and apologized for causing alarm.
Artie said he was sure he'd told John they were going to Evansville for Easter, but he didn't tell him how long they'd be gone. Well, we figured that much. Artie said they had left Friday evening, shortly after I'd left to join John at the campsite. Guess neighbor Rob was flakey thinking he'd seen them working in their yard on Saturday.
They promised to give us both of their cell numbers so that if anything should happen in the future, we'd be able to get a hold of them. With that, they thanked me again for the concern and I told them I was just glad they were home and that I was going in now to pluck a few more gray hairs.
Case solved!
Over the next few days, I'll share some of these stories with you. They were good for a laugh or a bit of drama when they happened...
This is the story of "Artie & Millie"... originally entitled "The Case of the Disappearing Neighbors..."
Part I (originally written on Wednesday, April 23, 2003, 5:50 a.m.)
I last saw our neighbor, "Artie", on Friday afternoon. We spoke for a moment about the camping trip John & I were headed on, then I left to take Smokey to the kennel. Artie never mentioned anything about he or his wife "Millie", going away for the weekend, and I didn't think to ask if they had plans to go visit their families for the (Easter) holiday.
We got home on Sunday afternoon (Easter Sunday), and there was no sign of Artie and Millie, which wasn't unusual, except that their Sunday paper was still lying in the driveway. I assumed they'd either left early that morning or perhaps the day before to go to Evansville to visit kin. As John set about mowing the grass, I started doing laundry and jumped in the shower. Once I was cleaned up, I went outside to check on John's progress, only to find two Jefferson County police officers circling Artie & Millie's house. Now that was unusual! Slightly alarmed and more than a little curious, we had to walk over and ask the officers, "What's up?" (like it was really any of our business?)
It was like pulling teeth to get an answer out of them. One of the officers mumbled an answer that neither of us really caught as they were walking back to their patrol cars. Just something about an emergency call. We thought that their ADT alarm had perhaps been tripped and suggested that the cat had done it. They squawked on their radios for a moment then went back to the house and knocked on the door. Needless to say, several of the neighbors were on their front porches by now, pulled away from their Easter dinners by curiousity.
Finally, one of the officers asked if we knew the whereabouts of Artie & Millie. We explained that we'd only been home a short time ourselves, but imagined that they'd gone to E-ville to visit their parents, and would probably be back tonight. I went and opened their mailbox and sure enough, Saturdays mail was still in there. That confirmed to me that they'd left the day before. I picked up the Sunday paper and tucked it into the mailbox so it wouldn't be obvious that no one was home. Again we asked what the problem was and finally the officer told us that they had a report of a 911 call coming from inside the house, but were getting no response at the door, and the dispatcher kept getting a busy signal when he tried to call their number back. Now we were just a bit alarmed.
I said, "Hold on, let me call the former owners and get the combination to the garage door opener. Maybe Artie never changed it when they moved in and we'll be able to get in the house." Little did I know that they didn't even have a number-pad entry system! I telephoned the Russell's, but got no answer. Remembering that the officer said the phone was busy when they tried calling back, I dialed Artie's phone number and it just kept ringing until the answering machine picke up. I looked at the officer and said, "It's not busy now."
So he asked, "What number did you dial?" I gave him their number and he called the dispatcher to the get the number the 911 call had come from. Artie & Millie's number had a different exchange then the one dispatch had, they weren't even close! Hello!! Gee, makes me feel safe knowing that central dispatch doesn't know what phone numbers belong to which households.
The officers thanked us and said there was obviously some mistake. Duh, do you think?! They got in their cars and went on their merry way, and meanwhile, somehere out in the county, some poor soul that did make the 911 call was now probably lying on their floor, half dead, waiting for the police to show up.
By now, another neighbor, "Rob", had walked over to get the sccop. We filled him in and he said that indeed he'd seen Artie out working in the yard on Saturday afternoon. We all agreed that they'd probably be back this evening, and dismissed the whole event from our minds.
Until...
Monday eveing, after returning from the grocery, it still appearred as if no one had been home at Artie & Millie's, so I checked their mail and sure enough, Monday's mail had been stuffed in on top of Saturday's and the newspaper. I took it all into the house with me and decided they'd just taken an extra day off to spend a long weekend with their families. I fully expected to see them the next morning as we all headed off for work.
But...
Not so.
It's now Wednesday morning and their mail is piling up on our counter top. Not that I mind picking their mail up for them, I just wish they'd ask us or tell us they'll be gone for a few days, not assume we'll get it. Or perhaps they don't care if it piles up in their mailbox, but for Pete's sake, what a dead giveaway to thieves that there's no one at home. The thing that has me really concerned is that if they've gone away, who's taking care of their cat? They usually have a friend that comes over and feeds their kitty, but we've seen not hide nor hair of a soul. Now I'm wondering if maybe they didn't have a second phone line that we didn't know about and maybe they had made a 911 call.
My truly over-active imagination has gone into overdrive and theorized that they were really in the witness protection program all this time and something happened over the weekend to compormise their safety and they've been relocated with new identities and we'll never see them again.
The detective in me can't stand not knowing, so my plan later this morning is to call Millie's employer and see if they'll confirm whether or not she's on vacation and when she's scheduled to come back to work. I'll be sure & let everyone know how this saga unfolds...
Part II (written 04/23/03, 10:50 PM)
Well, shortly after arriving at work this morning, I called the real estate office that Millie works at and plead my case to the secretary of the vice-pres. of sales. I'm sure she thought I was nuts and passed me off to some flunky whose desk was next to Millie's and said she'd be more likely to help me.
I repeated my story, sounding I'm sure a bit like some raving lunatic, and on the verge of tears by the time I'd told the girl what was going on. The co-worker finally confirmed that Millie had taken a few days off and was expected back to work on Thursday, but not before asking the secret-code question, after all, I could've been some criminal that had been casing the house. Her co-worker asked, "Oh, are you the neighbor that has the...?" She paused at this point and I assumed maybe I was supposed to fill in the blank and guessed at the answer, "Great Danes?"
"Yeah, that's it!" It was after that that she confirmed they'd gone out of town and taken both the dog and cat with them. I was only slightly relieved. Only the sight of them at home would completely ease my mind.
After arriving home this evening, I was still nervous that they weren't home, and went to collect their mail. All evening long, I kept the front door open so I could see them, or at the very least, Smokey would bark at them when they pulled in their driveway.
Finally, finally, at 9:58 pm, they came home. Hurray!!! I gave them a couple of minutes to unload some of the stuff from their car, then marched over with their mail and told them that if they ever did that again, I would beat them both with a wet noodle. I relayed all that had happened since Sunday, starting with the police and ending with my call to her employer. They appreciated the concern and apologized for causing alarm.
Artie said he was sure he'd told John they were going to Evansville for Easter, but he didn't tell him how long they'd be gone. Well, we figured that much. Artie said they had left Friday evening, shortly after I'd left to join John at the campsite. Guess neighbor Rob was flakey thinking he'd seen them working in their yard on Saturday.
They promised to give us both of their cell numbers so that if anything should happen in the future, we'd be able to get a hold of them. With that, they thanked me again for the concern and I told them I was just glad they were home and that I was going in now to pluck a few more gray hairs.
Case solved!
definitions
I had sent an email to a couple of people earlier today, and clicked the spell-check button. One of the words I'd typed was wrong, and it gave me three options for correcting it. Not being sure which one would be appropriate, I pulled out the dictionary to look up the definition of all three.
The American Heritage dictionary defines them as follows:
EMINENT: adj 1) towering above others; projecting; prominent, 2) Outstanding in performance or character; distinguished, 3) Possessed or shown to a remarkable degree; noteworthy
IMMANENT: adj 1) Existing or remaining within; inherent, 2) Restricted entirely to the mind; subjective.
IMMINENT: adj 1) About to occur; impending 2) To project over or toward, threaten
Now doesn't that 2nd definition of IMMINENT, sound an awful lot like the 1st definition for EMINENT (I'm thinking "project over", sounds a lot like "towering above")? No wonder the English language is so confusing!
The American Heritage dictionary defines them as follows:
EMINENT: adj 1) towering above others; projecting; prominent, 2) Outstanding in performance or character; distinguished, 3) Possessed or shown to a remarkable degree; noteworthy
IMMANENT: adj 1) Existing or remaining within; inherent, 2) Restricted entirely to the mind; subjective.
IMMINENT: adj 1) About to occur; impending 2) To project over or toward, threaten
Now doesn't that 2nd definition of IMMINENT, sound an awful lot like the 1st definition for EMINENT (I'm thinking "project over", sounds a lot like "towering above")? No wonder the English language is so confusing!
"Christmas Eve Curse"
Every year I dust off the Christmas poems. This is an oldy, but in my opinion, a goody.
'Twas the day before Christmas and all through the malls, not a shopper was smiling as they dashed down the halls. The traffic was snarled as it crept down the road, as everyone got into the "last-minute-shopping-mode".
The parents just stood and wasted their day, as they tried to retrieve gifts that were on lay-away. And momma just stood there and silently fumed as the chore of gift-wrapping, ahead of her loomed.
Then at the back of the store there rose such a clatter, shoppers came running to see what was the matter. Down the aisles, they pushed and they shoved. A cat-fight broke out, this was something they loved!
I'd created a diversion to thin out the crowd, and as I made it to the check-out, I shouted out loud... "Stop the insanity of this last minute rush!" Then someone called out, "Would you please HUSH!"
Outside of the store, it was windy and cold, and wouldn't you know it, low and behold, my car I'd misplaced, it was nowhere to be found. I needed the aid of a tracking hound.
"Now darn it! Dag nab it! Gosh durn and Gee-whiz! I hate it! I loath it! This last minute biz! Of rushing to the stores, then making us wait! All of this shopping is something I hate!"
As I hunted and searched to find my lost car, I knew if I found it, then I was going to a bar. Skip that ol' egg-nog, just hand me a beer. Now where is my car? It has to be here!
Alas here it is, I found my auto. I jumped for joy, like I'd just won the lotto. But my joy was dashed, as I sank to my knees, now I cried and I sobbed, "Where are my keys?"
From somewhere nearby, a car horn blew. Now feeling foolish, I suddenly knew. This wasn't my car, I'd not lost my keys, and I scrambled up, off of my knees.
Ma had driven, I'd completely forgot! And here she comes across the lot. But instead of stopping for me to get in, she drove on past, in our hunk of tin.
As the red glow of brake lights lit up the night, she hadn't forgotten me, there'd be no fight.
But as I ran for the car, I cried, "What the hell?" She'd only paused long enough to dial her cell.
I grabbed for the handle and held on tight, as she gunned the accelerator and drove off into the night. I heard her fussing, then felt a hard shake, I sprang from my recliner as I suddenly came awake.
I'd had a bad dream, about the Christmas Eve Curse, and there's only one thing that I know is worse. The day after Christmas, we'll again hit the stores, battling the clerks in the "Return Gift Wars".
Merry Christmas to all and Happy Last-Minute Shopping!
'Twas the day before Christmas and all through the malls, not a shopper was smiling as they dashed down the halls. The traffic was snarled as it crept down the road, as everyone got into the "last-minute-shopping-mode".
The parents just stood and wasted their day, as they tried to retrieve gifts that were on lay-away. And momma just stood there and silently fumed as the chore of gift-wrapping, ahead of her loomed.
Then at the back of the store there rose such a clatter, shoppers came running to see what was the matter. Down the aisles, they pushed and they shoved. A cat-fight broke out, this was something they loved!
I'd created a diversion to thin out the crowd, and as I made it to the check-out, I shouted out loud... "Stop the insanity of this last minute rush!" Then someone called out, "Would you please HUSH!"
Outside of the store, it was windy and cold, and wouldn't you know it, low and behold, my car I'd misplaced, it was nowhere to be found. I needed the aid of a tracking hound.
"Now darn it! Dag nab it! Gosh durn and Gee-whiz! I hate it! I loath it! This last minute biz! Of rushing to the stores, then making us wait! All of this shopping is something I hate!"
As I hunted and searched to find my lost car, I knew if I found it, then I was going to a bar. Skip that ol' egg-nog, just hand me a beer. Now where is my car? It has to be here!
Alas here it is, I found my auto. I jumped for joy, like I'd just won the lotto. But my joy was dashed, as I sank to my knees, now I cried and I sobbed, "Where are my keys?"
From somewhere nearby, a car horn blew. Now feeling foolish, I suddenly knew. This wasn't my car, I'd not lost my keys, and I scrambled up, off of my knees.
Ma had driven, I'd completely forgot! And here she comes across the lot. But instead of stopping for me to get in, she drove on past, in our hunk of tin.
As the red glow of brake lights lit up the night, she hadn't forgotten me, there'd be no fight.
But as I ran for the car, I cried, "What the hell?" She'd only paused long enough to dial her cell.
I grabbed for the handle and held on tight, as she gunned the accelerator and drove off into the night. I heard her fussing, then felt a hard shake, I sprang from my recliner as I suddenly came awake.
I'd had a bad dream, about the Christmas Eve Curse, and there's only one thing that I know is worse. The day after Christmas, we'll again hit the stores, battling the clerks in the "Return Gift Wars".
Merry Christmas to all and Happy Last-Minute Shopping!
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Remeniscing
I brought my Christmas cd's to work so that we could listen to some holiday tunes. Among them is the Bing Crosby Christmas, a classic to be sure.
We then swapping stories about other things from "way back when...". I finally said, "you know, if we mentioned most of these things to people under the age of 30-ish, most likely the majority of them wouldn't have any clue what we were talking about."
So let's see how many of you 30 and under crowd (or even some of you older folks) can remember these:
* When music was played on a record player, using LP 33's, 45 singles, or even 78's?
* How about when telephones had a rotary dial instead of push buttons or even speed-dial?
* How many of you can remember a time when you didn't have a telephone in your home, much less a cell-phone to carry everywhere you go?
* A time when there was only 1 t.v. set, if that, and there was a good chance it was in black & white instead of hi-def color? And no remote control?
* And horror of horrors, no cable or satellite to hook up to?
* Do any of you remember a time when there was no indoor plumbing and you had to use an outhouse instead of having a flushing toilet?
*Or how about not having a faucet to turn on hot/cold running water, but instead had to pump the water from a well?
Granted, I'm not saying I grew up with all these things in (or maybe I should say not in) our house. Some things we didn't have. The others I can remember being the case at either my grandparents or great-grandparents homes. I remember looking forward to visiting my great-grandmother's home because then I'd get to pump the handle and make the smelly water come out of the well.
We then swapping stories about other things from "way back when...". I finally said, "you know, if we mentioned most of these things to people under the age of 30-ish, most likely the majority of them wouldn't have any clue what we were talking about."
So let's see how many of you 30 and under crowd (or even some of you older folks) can remember these:
* When music was played on a record player, using LP 33's, 45 singles, or even 78's?
* How about when telephones had a rotary dial instead of push buttons or even speed-dial?
* How many of you can remember a time when you didn't have a telephone in your home, much less a cell-phone to carry everywhere you go?
* A time when there was only 1 t.v. set, if that, and there was a good chance it was in black & white instead of hi-def color? And no remote control?
* And horror of horrors, no cable or satellite to hook up to?
* Do any of you remember a time when there was no indoor plumbing and you had to use an outhouse instead of having a flushing toilet?
*Or how about not having a faucet to turn on hot/cold running water, but instead had to pump the water from a well?
Granted, I'm not saying I grew up with all these things in (or maybe I should say not in) our house. Some things we didn't have. The others I can remember being the case at either my grandparents or great-grandparents homes. I remember looking forward to visiting my great-grandmother's home because then I'd get to pump the handle and make the smelly water come out of the well.
The pink-nosed puppy...
Olivia the pink-nosed puppy, had some freckles on her nose.
And if you ever saw them, you would probably say, "what are those?"
All of the other canines, used to laugh and call her names.
They never let poor ‘Livvie, join in any doggy games.
Then one sunny day in May, a family came to say,
‘Livvie with your freckled nose, you’re the one that we ‘specially chose.
Then all the other canines, barked and wagged with glee.
Olivia the pink-nosed puppy, you’re as special as you can be!
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
T.M.I.
Okay, so the husband and I are in the check-out lane at Meijers last night, and the cashier dropped one of my canned goods. John said, "Oh, did it land on your foot? 'Cause that would hurt."
The cashier says, "No, it didn't. And I'm glad because I've already got a sore toe."
The husband: Yeah, me too (indicating his post-op shoe with his toes sticking out of the end of it.)
Cashier: I don't know what's wrong with mine. The toe nail hurts. I went home last night and soaked it in some Epsom salts, but it still hurts.
Me: Ingrown toe-nail.
Cashier: What?
Me: Ingrown toe-nail.
Cashier: Do you think so? Should I cut the nail off, will that fix it?
Okay, by now this conversation has lasted way too long.
Me: No, it probably became ingrown because of cutting it too short.
Cashier: Well, I think I got a fungus anyway. I had one before, I'll try that medicine again.
Okay, thankfully at this point, something happened to cause a distraction, and she stopped giving me her whole medically history. She had already given me way, waaayyy Too Much Information!!
What makes her think that a perfect stranger wants to hear about her fungus?
I can hear what some of you are thinking right now... but Pitawoman, you blog about all sorts of personal things all the time, what's the difference?
Well, let me tell you the difference. You kind readers have the option of exiting out of my blogs if the topic is boring, gross or otherwise offensive. This girl was ringing-up my groceries, I was stuck there. I said my GROCERIES people!! At least when I'm blogging, I'm not touching your food with my fungusy body parts, as this girl was. BLECH!!
The cashier says, "No, it didn't. And I'm glad because I've already got a sore toe."
The husband: Yeah, me too (indicating his post-op shoe with his toes sticking out of the end of it.)
Cashier: I don't know what's wrong with mine. The toe nail hurts. I went home last night and soaked it in some Epsom salts, but it still hurts.
Me: Ingrown toe-nail.
Cashier: What?
Me: Ingrown toe-nail.
Cashier: Do you think so? Should I cut the nail off, will that fix it?
Okay, by now this conversation has lasted way too long.
Me: No, it probably became ingrown because of cutting it too short.
Cashier: Well, I think I got a fungus anyway. I had one before, I'll try that medicine again.
Okay, thankfully at this point, something happened to cause a distraction, and she stopped giving me her whole medically history. She had already given me way, waaayyy Too Much Information!!
What makes her think that a perfect stranger wants to hear about her fungus?
I can hear what some of you are thinking right now... but Pitawoman, you blog about all sorts of personal things all the time, what's the difference?
Well, let me tell you the difference. You kind readers have the option of exiting out of my blogs if the topic is boring, gross or otherwise offensive. This girl was ringing-up my groceries, I was stuck there. I said my GROCERIES people!! At least when I'm blogging, I'm not touching your food with my fungusy body parts, as this girl was. BLECH!!
Friday, December 09, 2005
Knifty Knitter
The Knifty-Knitter... any of you ever hear of this gadget? Better yet, have any of you ever used this gadget?
I bought one a few weeks ago, and have been attempting to, if not master it, then to at least become proficient at it. Thus far, I've eeked out a small, pink, knit cap, small enough for a newborn baby, and a much larger pink hat that I've been wearing when I go to bed on cold nights.
Okay, go ahead and laugh, my husband does. He's now started calling me "Donald", in reference to the character from "Fat Albert" that wore the knit hat down over his eyes. hahaha.
The silly instructions that came with this gizmo only give you directions on how to knit one thing: hats. Nothing else. Yet after surfing the 'net, I find that scarves, booties, pot holders, all sorts of things can be made with this gizmo. Problem is, I don't know how. And the instructions I've seen on the 'net aren't that easy to understand.
Not only that, the directions that came with it really aren't very good about telling you how to finish the project, and it doesn't tell you anything at all about how to correct a mistake. What am I supposed to do, unravel the whole thing and start over each time? Yikes!!
Be warned friends & family, you may all be getting knitted hats for Christmas this year. ; )
I bought one a few weeks ago, and have been attempting to, if not master it, then to at least become proficient at it. Thus far, I've eeked out a small, pink, knit cap, small enough for a newborn baby, and a much larger pink hat that I've been wearing when I go to bed on cold nights.
Okay, go ahead and laugh, my husband does. He's now started calling me "Donald", in reference to the character from "Fat Albert" that wore the knit hat down over his eyes. hahaha.
The silly instructions that came with this gizmo only give you directions on how to knit one thing: hats. Nothing else. Yet after surfing the 'net, I find that scarves, booties, pot holders, all sorts of things can be made with this gizmo. Problem is, I don't know how. And the instructions I've seen on the 'net aren't that easy to understand.
Not only that, the directions that came with it really aren't very good about telling you how to finish the project, and it doesn't tell you anything at all about how to correct a mistake. What am I supposed to do, unravel the whole thing and start over each time? Yikes!!
Be warned friends & family, you may all be getting knitted hats for Christmas this year. ; )
I just love...
I just love watching the snow fall... as long as I'm not driving at the time.
I just love eating a bowl of left-over, home-made soup... preferably creamy-potato.
I just love getting Christmas cards from friends & family, especially when it's from someone I've not heard from in quite a while.
I just love eating a bowl of left-over, home-made soup... preferably creamy-potato.
I just love getting Christmas cards from friends & family, especially when it's from someone I've not heard from in quite a while.
2nd childhood
I've been living my second childhood these past couple of days.
Things went from being mega-busy at work to absolutely nothing going on. And yes, when nothing's going on, I've little to do, so I watch a movie from time to time.
Lately, I've been swapping movies with neighbor "R"... loaning her our dark, mystery, action-adventure movies, and she's been loaning me her Disney pixar movies, thus allowing me to live my 2nd childhood.
Yesterday I watched "Finding Nemo". Loved it!! The story was cute, but all the brilliant colors fascinated me more than anything else.
Today it was "The Incredibles". A decent movie, but not as good as Nemo, or either of the "Toy Story" movies.
When I popped "The Incredibles" in, it first had to show me some of the coming attractions... usually that's worse than going to the actual movie theater! But this time, they showed a movie that is due to come out in June 2006, and I gotta say, I can't wait. I want to take the husband to see it.
"The Cars" looks to be yet another winner in Disney/Pixar's animated movie collection. It sounded like Larry The Cable Guy lending his voice to one of the characters, so if for no other reason, I'm sure my husband will enjoy it for that. Can't wait!!
Yeah, I think these animated movies that have come out in the past 10 years +/-, has been a way for grown-ups to experience a bit of their 2nd childhood.
Things went from being mega-busy at work to absolutely nothing going on. And yes, when nothing's going on, I've little to do, so I watch a movie from time to time.
Lately, I've been swapping movies with neighbor "R"... loaning her our dark, mystery, action-adventure movies, and she's been loaning me her Disney pixar movies, thus allowing me to live my 2nd childhood.
Yesterday I watched "Finding Nemo". Loved it!! The story was cute, but all the brilliant colors fascinated me more than anything else.
Today it was "The Incredibles". A decent movie, but not as good as Nemo, or either of the "Toy Story" movies.
When I popped "The Incredibles" in, it first had to show me some of the coming attractions... usually that's worse than going to the actual movie theater! But this time, they showed a movie that is due to come out in June 2006, and I gotta say, I can't wait. I want to take the husband to see it.
"The Cars" looks to be yet another winner in Disney/Pixar's animated movie collection. It sounded like Larry The Cable Guy lending his voice to one of the characters, so if for no other reason, I'm sure my husband will enjoy it for that. Can't wait!!
Yeah, I think these animated movies that have come out in the past 10 years +/-, has been a way for grown-ups to experience a bit of their 2nd childhood.
Obedience School
I'm such a bad doggy-mother! As a general rule of thumb on class nights, I normally give Olivia 1/2 of a tablet of Acepromazine (sp?), which is a doggy-downer. Not to knock her out or anything, but just to help take the edge off of her over-abundant enthusiasm. Last week I forgot to give it to her, and she was totally bouncing off the walls and inattentive. Last night, I gave her a whole pill. Oh my, I'll never do that again!! She was drunk!
During class, her hind legs would quiver with the effort of supporting her body, her front feet turned in in an effort to keep her balance, her lower eyelid was quite baggy, and her third-eyelid was so far up, you could barely see her pupils at all. It's a wonder she wasn't walking into the walls!
Blessedly, nobody showed up for class besides us and neighbor "J" and her dog. I suppose all the other classmates must have assumed (incorrectly) that class was cancelled because of the earlier snow-fall. It was actually kind of nice having such a small class.
So next week is graduation (again). Maybe this time they'll put the correct info on Olivia's diploma. She'll then start classes again in January, hopefully on Saturday mornings.
During class, her hind legs would quiver with the effort of supporting her body, her front feet turned in in an effort to keep her balance, her lower eyelid was quite baggy, and her third-eyelid was so far up, you could barely see her pupils at all. It's a wonder she wasn't walking into the walls!
Blessedly, nobody showed up for class besides us and neighbor "J" and her dog. I suppose all the other classmates must have assumed (incorrectly) that class was cancelled because of the earlier snow-fall. It was actually kind of nice having such a small class.
So next week is graduation (again). Maybe this time they'll put the correct info on Olivia's diploma. She'll then start classes again in January, hopefully on Saturday mornings.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Old age
I fear that old age is setting into these old bones at a frightening speed. I'm not even talking about the gray hairs that are sprouting with ever increasing frequency. Nor am I talking about the calender that shows yet another birthday is just around the corner, reminding me that I'm growing ever closer to the big FOUR-OH!
No, there are other signs. The little aches and pains that used to occasionally irritate me now plague me with more intensity and frequency.
I used to roll my eyes whenever someone mentioned not being able to get through the night without getting up to go to the bathroom, but now I find that I'm slowly but surely becoming one of these people.
Once upon a time I used to stay up late and go to bed between 11pm and midnight. Now, 9:30 is late for me, and it's not unheard of for me to settle down for the night at the late hour of 7:30 pm. Seven-thirty??? Yikes! I can remember when the husband and I used to go out to dinner at 9pm.
Pretty soon, I'll be eating supper at 4:30, lunch at 10am, and breakfast the night before.
I accompanied the husband to Gould's Medical Sply. yesterday to pick-up something his orthopaedic surgeon had prescribed for him, and I stood gazing longingly at the support-hose. I love those things, but I just can't justify (yet) spending $25 or $30 a pair. Did I just say I love support hose? Well, if I have to wear them, and I had my choice, then yes, I love support hose. They make the legs feel so good at the end of the day.
And lastly, I find myself more and more often starting sentences with, "I remember when..." or "Back when I was younger..."
No, there are other signs. The little aches and pains that used to occasionally irritate me now plague me with more intensity and frequency.
I used to roll my eyes whenever someone mentioned not being able to get through the night without getting up to go to the bathroom, but now I find that I'm slowly but surely becoming one of these people.
Once upon a time I used to stay up late and go to bed between 11pm and midnight. Now, 9:30 is late for me, and it's not unheard of for me to settle down for the night at the late hour of 7:30 pm. Seven-thirty??? Yikes! I can remember when the husband and I used to go out to dinner at 9pm.
Pretty soon, I'll be eating supper at 4:30, lunch at 10am, and breakfast the night before.
I accompanied the husband to Gould's Medical Sply. yesterday to pick-up something his orthopaedic surgeon had prescribed for him, and I stood gazing longingly at the support-hose. I love those things, but I just can't justify (yet) spending $25 or $30 a pair. Did I just say I love support hose? Well, if I have to wear them, and I had my choice, then yes, I love support hose. They make the legs feel so good at the end of the day.
And lastly, I find myself more and more often starting sentences with, "I remember when..." or "Back when I was younger..."
Bunco... Bunko?
I've taken yet another step towards old-age. I've now been lured into the world of Bunco. Or is it Bunko?
Whatever!
I've been successfully able to avoid succumbing to these gatherings of gabbing, gossiping women that before now, I mentally made fun of. Whenever I would hear someone mention that they had a Bunko game to get to, I'd mentally roll my eyes and thank the stars that I hadn't sunk to that point in my life.
For the most part, my mental image of these gatherings were a bunch of older (and by older I mean 45 years old or older) women, sitting around gossiping, eating and drinking and making merry while playing the game, which truthfully, I didn't know if it involved cards, dice, or for that matter, if it was even a real game.
So, last Friday the husband and I went to Applebee's for dinner, and the couple (M&L) that lives in back of us met us there. While dining, their next-door neighbors (J&S) came in to eat. Before I had time to react, "S" had invited "L" & myself to come to her house on Tuesday evening to play Bunko. I couldn't think of a plausable reason to get out of going on such a moments notice, and found myself agreeing to go, the whole while groaning inwardly at what I'd agreed to.
But I thought, what the heck? What else have I got to do besides sit home and watch re-runs of Law & Order? Granted, there are a lot of things I could be doing, like cleaning the house, working with Olivia and her obedience lessons, balancing the checkbook, but those things are work. Blech! Besides, John is gone every Tuesday evening anyway for fire-training, so why shouldn't I get out of the house one Tuesday a month?
As I prepared to walk out the door my cell phone rang and it was my mother... just calling to say she was thinking about me. Sorry mom, I have to go take another step towards middle-age and meet the girls for a night of Bunko. She seemed to find this rather hysterically funny.
Okay, I admit it, I was wrong and I had fun. The game was easy, and yes, it is a real game (played with dice). I was neither the oldest nor youngest one there, meaning that it wasn't a group of old women. And, I already knew (if only casually) all but two people there. I wish I'd known that dinner was being served, as I was already stuffed from eating Sonic, and had no room for anymore dinner or dessert. :(
So I've now committed myself to the second Tuesday of every month. I'll be there with my $5.00 in hand, ready to gossip, eat, drink and make merry. :)
Whatever!
I've been successfully able to avoid succumbing to these gatherings of gabbing, gossiping women that before now, I mentally made fun of. Whenever I would hear someone mention that they had a Bunko game to get to, I'd mentally roll my eyes and thank the stars that I hadn't sunk to that point in my life.
For the most part, my mental image of these gatherings were a bunch of older (and by older I mean 45 years old or older) women, sitting around gossiping, eating and drinking and making merry while playing the game, which truthfully, I didn't know if it involved cards, dice, or for that matter, if it was even a real game.
So, last Friday the husband and I went to Applebee's for dinner, and the couple (M&L) that lives in back of us met us there. While dining, their next-door neighbors (J&S) came in to eat. Before I had time to react, "S" had invited "L" & myself to come to her house on Tuesday evening to play Bunko. I couldn't think of a plausable reason to get out of going on such a moments notice, and found myself agreeing to go, the whole while groaning inwardly at what I'd agreed to.
But I thought, what the heck? What else have I got to do besides sit home and watch re-runs of Law & Order? Granted, there are a lot of things I could be doing, like cleaning the house, working with Olivia and her obedience lessons, balancing the checkbook, but those things are work. Blech! Besides, John is gone every Tuesday evening anyway for fire-training, so why shouldn't I get out of the house one Tuesday a month?
As I prepared to walk out the door my cell phone rang and it was my mother... just calling to say she was thinking about me. Sorry mom, I have to go take another step towards middle-age and meet the girls for a night of Bunko. She seemed to find this rather hysterically funny.
Okay, I admit it, I was wrong and I had fun. The game was easy, and yes, it is a real game (played with dice). I was neither the oldest nor youngest one there, meaning that it wasn't a group of old women. And, I already knew (if only casually) all but two people there. I wish I'd known that dinner was being served, as I was already stuffed from eating Sonic, and had no room for anymore dinner or dessert. :(
So I've now committed myself to the second Tuesday of every month. I'll be there with my $5.00 in hand, ready to gossip, eat, drink and make merry. :)
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Murder Mystery
I mentioned in an earlier blog about the Murder Mystery dinner party we were supposed to attend.
The party was this past Saturday, and we had a blast!! I think everyone had a good time. There were 8 players, and I think about 1/2 of them thought I was the murderer... but they were wrong.
I have the bragging rights in that I was the only one to guess who the real murder was: Elvira Lynn Fection (a.k.a. John's sister Kathy). The evening was complete with the hanging of our murderess.
Following Directions/Instructions
It's a well known fact of life that the male of our species lacks a certain chromosonal gene that inables them to: #1) follow instructions or directions, #2) stop and ask for directions if lost, #3) read all instructions before attempting to assemble items.
That having been said, I don't know why I even bothered asking the husband to start dinner yesterday before I arrived home. It should have been a relatively simple thing to do, yet he failed to read the easy instructions printed on the side of the box.
We were having Stouffers frozen lasagna... LOVE THAT STUFF!!
All the husband had to do was remove the box from the freezer. Open the box and remove the foil-covered pan. Preheat the oven. Remove the foil from pan, fold it in half to form an "A" or teepee, and place it back over the pan. Then place the pan on a baking sheet and insert it in the oven to bake.
Did he accomplish this successfully? No!
He removed the box from the freezer, removed the pan from the box, preheated the oven then placed the pan in the oven. Okay, it was on a baking sheet, but in the wrong direction, which meant the pan of lasagna hung over the edge of the baking sheet, which meant any spillage would've still landed in the oven.
He also failed to remove the foil cover, fold and replace it.
When the timer went off so I'd know when to remove the cover, needless to say I was surprised when I opened the oven, only to discover the foil still securely covering the pan. I grumbled under my breath, removed the pan from the oven.
Of course, now the pan was too hot to hold on to and attempt to remove the foil, which was also too hot to grab hold of. More grumbling.
Once I finally got the foil off, I stuck a spoon in the middle of the lasagna... ice cold. Still more grumbling!
Had he followed the instructions, we could be eating dinner in 20 minutes. Now it was going to take another hour to cook.
**sigh**
What was I thinking asking a man to follow simple instructions?
It's a darned good thing we love our men, despite their lack of this chromosone.
That having been said, I don't know why I even bothered asking the husband to start dinner yesterday before I arrived home. It should have been a relatively simple thing to do, yet he failed to read the easy instructions printed on the side of the box.
We were having Stouffers frozen lasagna... LOVE THAT STUFF!!
All the husband had to do was remove the box from the freezer. Open the box and remove the foil-covered pan. Preheat the oven. Remove the foil from pan, fold it in half to form an "A" or teepee, and place it back over the pan. Then place the pan on a baking sheet and insert it in the oven to bake.
Did he accomplish this successfully? No!
He removed the box from the freezer, removed the pan from the box, preheated the oven then placed the pan in the oven. Okay, it was on a baking sheet, but in the wrong direction, which meant the pan of lasagna hung over the edge of the baking sheet, which meant any spillage would've still landed in the oven.
He also failed to remove the foil cover, fold and replace it.
When the timer went off so I'd know when to remove the cover, needless to say I was surprised when I opened the oven, only to discover the foil still securely covering the pan. I grumbled under my breath, removed the pan from the oven.
Of course, now the pan was too hot to hold on to and attempt to remove the foil, which was also too hot to grab hold of. More grumbling.
Once I finally got the foil off, I stuck a spoon in the middle of the lasagna... ice cold. Still more grumbling!
Had he followed the instructions, we could be eating dinner in 20 minutes. Now it was going to take another hour to cook.
**sigh**
What was I thinking asking a man to follow simple instructions?
It's a darned good thing we love our men, despite their lack of this chromosone.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)