Believe me when I tell you that I have been called a LOT of things and "crazy" is right up there at the top of the list. When I was young and "crazy" that was a good thing, Nothing like a boring 20 year old who wouldn't do anything. I figured out early on that life was meant to be lived to the fullest while staying within the boundaries of the law and common sense. The older I get it is harder to remain "foot loose and fancy free" and "crazy" without the very real possibility that one of my kids will have me committed. But I do my very best to enjoy life while reminding myself I am NOT 20 any longer.
Things like riding a bike are no longer part of my life. Just recently I did try to ride my grand daughter's bike and was so sure I was going to crash and die that once I got back to her house I literally fell off the bike and said, "no thank you" to ever riding again. I see "older" folks in my community riding around like it is nothing but alas, that will not be me. So much for that type of crazy. Likewise, you will not find me ice skating or roller skating . . . both of which I did as a child and both of which I LOVED ! Now all I see when I look at a pair of skates is a trip to the hospital with a broken hip. I also do not dive off the side of the pool any more. There was a time when that was my standard way of entering a swimming pool. I can tell you it was never pretty but it usually was not painful. I knew enough not to belly flop but I was never a Greg Louganis, and I never dove off anything higher than 6 inches. So much for my crazy activities these past 50 years.
Now a days "getting crazy" usually involves staying up past 10:00P.M., sleeping past 9:00 A.M. or when I really get wild I will have ice cream for breakfast ! Such is the sad state of being older. But the absolute craziest thing that I do now a days is stay in Florida for the summer and LOVE it !!
How many people out there consider anyone who actually likes living in Florida in the summer to be full blown, squirrelly, bat shit NUTS ? Everyone I know seems to feel this way and will readily tell me I am crazy. But this is by far the very best time of the year to live down here.
At the moment I am sitting out side in the shade on my lanai. The patio fan is moving the air around me and the ocean breeze, (even though I am about 3 miles from the ocean) is blowing through the trees. It is HOT but it feels wonderful. I actually came outside because, even though the AC is set at 77 degrees, I was freezing in the house. Out here the sun is shining and the sky is blue. I wouldn't want to be digging ditches or putting a roof on a house or even weeding my garden but sitting here is lovely ! The crazy part is that years ago people would tell me that when you live in a hot climate your blood thins so you don't feel the heat as badly. I really did think this was a pile of horse poop but after living here all these years it does seem to be the truth. Not only do I enjoy sitting out side when it is 88 degrees but I now wear long pants and long sleeve tops when I go anywhere. If 30 years ago you had told me I would be dressing like this and not dying of heat prostration I would have told you that YOU were crazy. I mean, what person in their right mind carries around a sweater in the summer or wears a coat when the thermometer drops below 70?
I don't know if it is "old" age or what but I am enjoying my new "crazy" life.
Wednesday, July 31, 2019
Sunday, July 28, 2019
PIT BULLS AND PEOPLE
This is NOT a blog about Pitbulls. . . . It IS about people who behave like pitbulls. I honestly don't know much about this particular breed of dog but what I do know is that people either love them or hate them. I have also been told that once a pitfall grabs hold of something it will NOT let go. I happen to know a couple of people who demonstrate this exact same behavior . . . They just can not let something go once they get it in their heads so as a result they are often disliked by their peers. In my case I have known one particular person for most of my life but it has only been the past 20 or so years that I have spent more time with them. I have come to like them in spite of several "quirks" in their personality but the other day when we were out to lunch together I realized I had some food for a blog right at my finger tips. (Names HAVE been changed to protect the annoying.)
Just this past week Celia and I went out to lunch at a restaurant near her home. We had visited this exact same culinary domicile the last time I went to visit her and on that occasion Celia lost the remote control for her electric garage door. This fact was not made evident until we pulled into her driveway and couldn't get into the house. After about 12 repetitive searches of my car, (she just insisted that the remote HAD to be in my car), it was determined that the remote must have fallen out of her purse while we were eating. (The first clue to this idea was that when we were ready to leave the restaurant Celia couldn't find her purse because it had fallen onto the floor under our table. I picked it up and gathered up the couple of things that had fallen out. I did NOT notice a remote.) The loss of the remote became a MAJOR upset which resulted in multiple phone calls to me TELLING me to search my car yet AGAIN ! (I had already searched it several time at her house when we realized it was missing and then did search my car several more times the next day. The remote was indeed gone.) When I left her the day of the loss I stopped at the restaurant and asked if they had found a remote. I also asked to see the booth where we had been sitting so I could check the floor myself. NO REMOTE !!! I called Celia on my way home that day and told her the remote was not on the floor of the restaurant nor was it in the parking lot which I had also checked thoroughly before going home. It took Celia about a week of phone calls to me AND the restaurant to accept that the remote was GONE. At least I thought she had let this go . . . As we walked into this very same place of mediocre dining this past week the first words out of Celia's mouth were, "I LOST MY REMOTE HERE. DID YOU FIND IT?". This enquiry was directed at the poor girl who had the misfortune to be the hostess just inside the door. It took the girl a moment to process this statement and then she responded with a simple "no". I had hoped that would be the end of this topic but true to form Celia continued to fire questions and statements regarding the lost remote at the hostess as we were shown to our booth . . . the EXACT SAME booth that we had sat in a month ago when the crime of the century occurred. Sitting there seemed to trigger an even stronger pitbull like behavior in Celia so that EVERY person who came within shouting distance of our table, employee and customer alike, was subjected to the litany . . . "I lost my remote here. If you find a remote it is mine. Do you see a remote under the table? " Waiter, waitress, man woman and child were all confronted by Celia and her relentless search for the missing remote. Thankfully everyone just gave her a quick smile and chalked her behavior up to her being a Wacky Senior Citizen. The topic of the missing remote dominated our luncheon conversation and the ride home where it then continued into the ICE CREAM SOCIAL with her 75 "closest" friends and neighbors from the over 55 community where she lives. That experience is a topic for another blog. "How I survived my worst nightmare" will be published as soon as I recover.
Just this past week Celia and I went out to lunch at a restaurant near her home. We had visited this exact same culinary domicile the last time I went to visit her and on that occasion Celia lost the remote control for her electric garage door. This fact was not made evident until we pulled into her driveway and couldn't get into the house. After about 12 repetitive searches of my car, (she just insisted that the remote HAD to be in my car), it was determined that the remote must have fallen out of her purse while we were eating. (The first clue to this idea was that when we were ready to leave the restaurant Celia couldn't find her purse because it had fallen onto the floor under our table. I picked it up and gathered up the couple of things that had fallen out. I did NOT notice a remote.) The loss of the remote became a MAJOR upset which resulted in multiple phone calls to me TELLING me to search my car yet AGAIN ! (I had already searched it several time at her house when we realized it was missing and then did search my car several more times the next day. The remote was indeed gone.) When I left her the day of the loss I stopped at the restaurant and asked if they had found a remote. I also asked to see the booth where we had been sitting so I could check the floor myself. NO REMOTE !!! I called Celia on my way home that day and told her the remote was not on the floor of the restaurant nor was it in the parking lot which I had also checked thoroughly before going home. It took Celia about a week of phone calls to me AND the restaurant to accept that the remote was GONE. At least I thought she had let this go . . . As we walked into this very same place of mediocre dining this past week the first words out of Celia's mouth were, "I LOST MY REMOTE HERE. DID YOU FIND IT?". This enquiry was directed at the poor girl who had the misfortune to be the hostess just inside the door. It took the girl a moment to process this statement and then she responded with a simple "no". I had hoped that would be the end of this topic but true to form Celia continued to fire questions and statements regarding the lost remote at the hostess as we were shown to our booth . . . the EXACT SAME booth that we had sat in a month ago when the crime of the century occurred. Sitting there seemed to trigger an even stronger pitbull like behavior in Celia so that EVERY person who came within shouting distance of our table, employee and customer alike, was subjected to the litany . . . "I lost my remote here. If you find a remote it is mine. Do you see a remote under the table? " Waiter, waitress, man woman and child were all confronted by Celia and her relentless search for the missing remote. Thankfully everyone just gave her a quick smile and chalked her behavior up to her being a Wacky Senior Citizen. The topic of the missing remote dominated our luncheon conversation and the ride home where it then continued into the ICE CREAM SOCIAL with her 75 "closest" friends and neighbors from the over 55 community where she lives. That experience is a topic for another blog. "How I survived my worst nightmare" will be published as soon as I recover.
Thursday, July 25, 2019
NAP TIME
Do you know how much you can accomplish in a day when you get up at 5:00 in the morning ?? The answer to that is NO . . . I don't know how much I can accomplish in a day that begins at 5:00 A.M. because by 8:00 A.M. I am ready to go back to bed !
This whole "getting older" crap is getting mighty old mighty fast. I remember when I turned 40 one of my doctors said, "Well, you ARE getting to be "THAT AGE". Just exactly what "That Age" means I didn't have a clue but I CAN tell you that since I turned 40, (well over 34 years ago), it has been down hill ever since. Going "down hill is also one of those terms that is an oxymoron because every day that I am "going down hill" it feels like I am trudging up hill and the hill is getting steeper by the minute ! Right about now I feel like I am climbing Mount Everest.
I am finding that besides the increase in aches and pains, the daily weight gain, the loss of memory and attention span this whole sleep issue is really making me feel old. One day I can't stay awake beyond seven o'clock at night and the next night I am up until 4 I the morning. Last night I had guests for dinner so by 11:00 P.M. I was tired and ready for a good night's sleep. I fell asleep right away but woke up at five this morning to pee and couldn't get back to sleep. Six hours of sleep is not what I am used to. I was the QUEEN OF SLEEP up until a year ago when I had knee replacement surgery. That totally destroyed my sleep patterns and I still can not get back to my normal 12 hours of sleep. I do think that the peeing 14 times a night, (just another joy of getting older), has an impact on the quality of sleep but then I should be tired from all that running back and forth to the potty. But the opposite seems to happen causing me to loose sleep because every time I get up to pee my brain wakes up and gets thinking of all the things I could or should be doing. This is totally irrational because even though it is much cooler at 2 A.M. I can't see in the dark so there is no sense getting up to weed my garden. I have also found that most of my friends do NOT like to get phone calls or text messages at 2 in the morning so that is another thing I can't do. Beyond catching up on e-mail or blogging there isn't a hell of a lot to do during these midnight hours.
To complete this cycle of insanity, if I do get up at five in the morning I need/want a nap by 11 at the latest. If I give in to this urge I feel refreshed when I get up but then can't fall asleep at night because I took a nap. I just can't win !
This whole "getting older" crap is getting mighty old mighty fast. I remember when I turned 40 one of my doctors said, "Well, you ARE getting to be "THAT AGE". Just exactly what "That Age" means I didn't have a clue but I CAN tell you that since I turned 40, (well over 34 years ago), it has been down hill ever since. Going "down hill is also one of those terms that is an oxymoron because every day that I am "going down hill" it feels like I am trudging up hill and the hill is getting steeper by the minute ! Right about now I feel like I am climbing Mount Everest.
I am finding that besides the increase in aches and pains, the daily weight gain, the loss of memory and attention span this whole sleep issue is really making me feel old. One day I can't stay awake beyond seven o'clock at night and the next night I am up until 4 I the morning. Last night I had guests for dinner so by 11:00 P.M. I was tired and ready for a good night's sleep. I fell asleep right away but woke up at five this morning to pee and couldn't get back to sleep. Six hours of sleep is not what I am used to. I was the QUEEN OF SLEEP up until a year ago when I had knee replacement surgery. That totally destroyed my sleep patterns and I still can not get back to my normal 12 hours of sleep. I do think that the peeing 14 times a night, (just another joy of getting older), has an impact on the quality of sleep but then I should be tired from all that running back and forth to the potty. But the opposite seems to happen causing me to loose sleep because every time I get up to pee my brain wakes up and gets thinking of all the things I could or should be doing. This is totally irrational because even though it is much cooler at 2 A.M. I can't see in the dark so there is no sense getting up to weed my garden. I have also found that most of my friends do NOT like to get phone calls or text messages at 2 in the morning so that is another thing I can't do. Beyond catching up on e-mail or blogging there isn't a hell of a lot to do during these midnight hours.
To complete this cycle of insanity, if I do get up at five in the morning I need/want a nap by 11 at the latest. If I give in to this urge I feel refreshed when I get up but then can't fall asleep at night because I took a nap. I just can't win !
Wednesday, July 24, 2019
PEOPLE ARE WEIRD !
Have you noticed that everyone around you is NUTS ? Do you find yourself surrounded by idiots ?
Is it obvious to you that in order to have an intelligent conversation you have to talk to yourself ?
If this isn't the case then stop reading right now because you are one of the thousands who are giving me food for blogging.
You really can't survive this world without a good sense of humor and the ability to shake your head and walk away. People who experience Road Rage have not developed that ability. Most politicians are not able to listen without reacting. That person in back of you on line who is muttering and bouncing on their toes for you to hurry up really needs to work on filtering out the stupid, unimportant things that are annoying them.
The human race is proof that God has a sense of humor. I've been thinking that people are Gods version of You Tube's "Fails". (In case you don't have grand kids let me explain. There are hundreds, possibly thousands of home videos showing just how dumb mankind is.) I can picture God sitting in his Lazy Boy recliner laughing so hard at the antics of his human creations that He pees His robe. I think the reason He keeps us around is because we are constantly providing Him with so much entertainment
Each and every day I encounter at least one situation that is worth laughing at and blogging about. Unfortunately I DO have other things to do with my life so I tuck these events in the far reaches of my brain and when something else triggers my memory you get a new blog. Sadly my brain does not retain as much as it used to so there are days when nothing comes to mind. Those are the days that I sit like a cauliflower on the couch and watch endless movies on Netflix. Which is pretty much how I spent my afternoon today until I had to go out side to bring my garbage and recycling to the curb. That triggered the memory of the memo sent by my community regarding people who are putting their recycling in other peoples recycling bins. THE HORROR !! Can you believe there is someone out there getting upset enough about this that they have to call the condo association? Then there are the folks who are so "rule" conscious that they complain about EVERYTHING. If the rules say you can't put your garbage out until AFTER 6 PM the night before garbage pick-up and you happen to be leaving town at 4 PM and don't want to leave a bag of stinking trash in your house . . . Well too bad for you because the garbage police will tattle on you. And how about when you go to the Post Office to track a package and you wait in line for 15 minutes only get to the counter to be told you need to stand in a different line? Does not EVERY postal worker have a computer at their finger tips where they can type in your "tracking" number ? (I tried to do it at home and the damn computer kept telling me I didn't have a valid number.) But no, go to another line and wait there another 10 minutes just to be told the package, that has been in the mail for two and a half weeks and still not arrived, is on the truck and will be delivered today.
These are the things that we need to ignore but when they are happening to me I become that person that I blog about. I turn into the nut case who stomps out of the PO swearing under her breath that the USPS is run by a bunch of idiots. But then as I drive home I start to laugh at myself because I see just how silly it is to get upset at this stuff. Are the folks who are sitting at home with their binoculars watching the neighbors on trash day crazy ? Absolutely !! Should I let them upset me ?? NO !!
We can't dictate the actions of others but we can decide how we will react . . . And that's why I blog.
Is it obvious to you that in order to have an intelligent conversation you have to talk to yourself ?
If this isn't the case then stop reading right now because you are one of the thousands who are giving me food for blogging.
You really can't survive this world without a good sense of humor and the ability to shake your head and walk away. People who experience Road Rage have not developed that ability. Most politicians are not able to listen without reacting. That person in back of you on line who is muttering and bouncing on their toes for you to hurry up really needs to work on filtering out the stupid, unimportant things that are annoying them.
The human race is proof that God has a sense of humor. I've been thinking that people are Gods version of You Tube's "Fails". (In case you don't have grand kids let me explain. There are hundreds, possibly thousands of home videos showing just how dumb mankind is.) I can picture God sitting in his Lazy Boy recliner laughing so hard at the antics of his human creations that He pees His robe. I think the reason He keeps us around is because we are constantly providing Him with so much entertainment
Each and every day I encounter at least one situation that is worth laughing at and blogging about. Unfortunately I DO have other things to do with my life so I tuck these events in the far reaches of my brain and when something else triggers my memory you get a new blog. Sadly my brain does not retain as much as it used to so there are days when nothing comes to mind. Those are the days that I sit like a cauliflower on the couch and watch endless movies on Netflix. Which is pretty much how I spent my afternoon today until I had to go out side to bring my garbage and recycling to the curb. That triggered the memory of the memo sent by my community regarding people who are putting their recycling in other peoples recycling bins. THE HORROR !! Can you believe there is someone out there getting upset enough about this that they have to call the condo association? Then there are the folks who are so "rule" conscious that they complain about EVERYTHING. If the rules say you can't put your garbage out until AFTER 6 PM the night before garbage pick-up and you happen to be leaving town at 4 PM and don't want to leave a bag of stinking trash in your house . . . Well too bad for you because the garbage police will tattle on you. And how about when you go to the Post Office to track a package and you wait in line for 15 minutes only get to the counter to be told you need to stand in a different line? Does not EVERY postal worker have a computer at their finger tips where they can type in your "tracking" number ? (I tried to do it at home and the damn computer kept telling me I didn't have a valid number.) But no, go to another line and wait there another 10 minutes just to be told the package, that has been in the mail for two and a half weeks and still not arrived, is on the truck and will be delivered today.
These are the things that we need to ignore but when they are happening to me I become that person that I blog about. I turn into the nut case who stomps out of the PO swearing under her breath that the USPS is run by a bunch of idiots. But then as I drive home I start to laugh at myself because I see just how silly it is to get upset at this stuff. Are the folks who are sitting at home with their binoculars watching the neighbors on trash day crazy ? Absolutely !! Should I let them upset me ?? NO !!
We can't dictate the actions of others but we can decide how we will react . . . And that's why I blog.
Friday, July 19, 2019
MIRRORS
Mirrors are interesting. A piece of glass coated on one side with I have no idea what so they reflect our image when we stand in front of them. I am guessing that probably 95 % of the world population own at least one mirror per household. That includes the most remote villages in the deepest jungles of Africa and the highest mountains of Tibet. If a family doesn't own a mirror that is bought in a store they at very least have a shiny piece of metal or a crystal clear lake or stream that will reflect an image. Everybody has that little need to check them selves out on a regular basis to make sure we are still "Looking Good !". We check to see if we have any more grey hairs, any new warts, did a new wrinkle materialize during the night ? Sometimes we are happy with what we see, often we can't believe that the old person staring back is really us. Some days I look in the mirror and see my mom staring back at me, other days it is my dad. Our perception changes daily depending on the light we are using and our mood. No matter who we are or where we are everyone likes to look at themselves in a mirror.
Or at least this is what I used to think until I spent a day walking around Disney World. I saw some sights that I would like to burn off my memory bank. There are people out there who obviously are blind or are of the 5 % of the entire world population who does NOT own a mirror because there is no way in Hell they could possibly have looked in a mirror and thought that what they were wearing actually looked good or was even covering the parts of their bodies that REALLY NEED to be covered. Along with that observation my son pointed out the alarming fact that probably 80% of the people visiting Disney World were LARGE. (I will not use the word obese because I never liked that word. To me obese is someone over 400 pounds but I have noted that my doctor will consider me "obese" if I am 30 pounds over my ideal weight.) I will just refer to MOST of the Disney tourists as LARGE.. . . REALLY, REALLY LARGE ! And not only are most of these folks large they also must not own mirrors because the outfits they were wearing were . . . I don't think I have a word to describe it. Some adjectives would be ; tiny, skimpy, ridiculous, horrific, ugly, insane and just plain "Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?" I seriously do think that these folks actually DO look at themselves and think they look good. I honestly don't know how they can possibly think this but what other explanation is there for people going out in public looking like hippos in bikinis ?
I mean there were body parts that should never see the light of day just hanging out there for all the world to see. Or if the body was covered it was covered with material that was so tight and so "form fitting" that the wearer might as well have been naked. There is just no reason to be looking like you have just poured yourself into your pants. It DOES NOT LOOK GOOD people. PLEASE, please, please get ourselves a good friend who will be honest and tell you, "YES ! You look FAT in those pants, dress, top, shorts whatever". But then again the horrid looking people were never alone. Rather, they were in herds and all of them looked as bad as the next. It is a God Awful thing to be stuck standing in line for an hour in back of someone who's shorts barely cover their butts and their boobs are hanging out of their tank top.
Try explaining to your grand kid why they can't wear shorts to school after the sights they have seen at Disney.
Or at least this is what I used to think until I spent a day walking around Disney World. I saw some sights that I would like to burn off my memory bank. There are people out there who obviously are blind or are of the 5 % of the entire world population who does NOT own a mirror because there is no way in Hell they could possibly have looked in a mirror and thought that what they were wearing actually looked good or was even covering the parts of their bodies that REALLY NEED to be covered. Along with that observation my son pointed out the alarming fact that probably 80% of the people visiting Disney World were LARGE. (I will not use the word obese because I never liked that word. To me obese is someone over 400 pounds but I have noted that my doctor will consider me "obese" if I am 30 pounds over my ideal weight.) I will just refer to MOST of the Disney tourists as LARGE.. . . REALLY, REALLY LARGE ! And not only are most of these folks large they also must not own mirrors because the outfits they were wearing were . . . I don't think I have a word to describe it. Some adjectives would be ; tiny, skimpy, ridiculous, horrific, ugly, insane and just plain "Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?" I seriously do think that these folks actually DO look at themselves and think they look good. I honestly don't know how they can possibly think this but what other explanation is there for people going out in public looking like hippos in bikinis ?
I mean there were body parts that should never see the light of day just hanging out there for all the world to see. Or if the body was covered it was covered with material that was so tight and so "form fitting" that the wearer might as well have been naked. There is just no reason to be looking like you have just poured yourself into your pants. It DOES NOT LOOK GOOD people. PLEASE, please, please get ourselves a good friend who will be honest and tell you, "YES ! You look FAT in those pants, dress, top, shorts whatever". But then again the horrid looking people were never alone. Rather, they were in herds and all of them looked as bad as the next. It is a God Awful thing to be stuck standing in line for an hour in back of someone who's shorts barely cover their butts and their boobs are hanging out of their tank top.
Try explaining to your grand kid why they can't wear shorts to school after the sights they have seen at Disney.
Tuesday, July 16, 2019
INVASIVE SPECIES
When you drive from the continental United States to Alaska and back it is necessary to drive through several provinces of Canada. As a result of this you have to cross the Canadian - U.S. Border four times. At each border crossing you are required to show your passport and to answer several questions. The border patrol officer will ask things like;
Where are you headed and how long are you staying?
Do you have any guns or alcohol in your vehicle?
Are you transporting any fruits or vegetables?
Are you carrying any fire wood?
In preparation for this third degree examination I was coached by My Man as to how to behave and what NOT to say to the officer. Basically it boiled down to "Shut up and Don't move!" Apparently it is also a "no no" to crochet while crossing the Canadian border. ( I was crocheting a pillow cover using a very small gauge crochet hook which seemingly could have been mistaken for a machine gun.) And so I sat back and let The Man do all the talking. The first question is an easy one . . . Alaska and Michigan. As for the guns and alcohol, if I am traveling 6600 miles in a small RV do you seriously expect me to remain SOBER ? And that would then also answer the gun question because you never put a gun in the hands of a crazy, drunk woman. As for the fruits and vegetables . . . Do I look like I am smuggling Brussel sprouts and pineapples ? And firewood ? Why would I carry wood with me when I can pick it up on the side of the road ? So much for all the silly questions. But I guess there is a very real threat of bringing an invasive species of bug from one country to another so they ask about things that could be hiding little critters. Fortunately we did not have any uninvited guests traveling with us.
Lucky for us we weren't driving MY car through Canada! Because I was going away for 2 full months I took the initiative of buying a cover for my car to protect it while it sat in my designated spot, under a tree in Florida, I figured the cover would protect it from the twigs and leaves and anything else that might fall from the tree. Unfortunately the cover also provided a nice warm, dark hatching spot for ants and spiders. Two days after my return to Florida I found a spider swinging from my rear view mirror. I am not bothered by the average spider so I let it fall onto a tissue and then deposited it outside the car to continue on it's journey. Little did I realize that Mr. Spider was in fact MRS. spider who must have made a nest and laid a TON of eggs in my car while it was sitting vacant for the 2 months. because the following day as I was driving down the road I realized there were tinny tiny little spiders running all over the dash board of my car. Every time I squished one 5 more would appear. It was sort of like the "Whack A Mole" game at a carnival. Then today when I opened the drivers door after taking my grand kids home I noticed a caravan of ants marching across the bottom of the car door frame. Upon further inspection I realized I had an entire colony of tiny ants living in the frame of all 4 car doors. That was the final straw . . . Bug spray in hand I went into attack mode and sprayed the living hell out of anything and everything that moved. (Thankfully the grand kids were in their house by then.)
My car now smells like a toxic bomb went off in it so in spite of the 90 degree weather I will probably have to drive with the windows open for the next 3 weeks. But the bugs are GONE !
At least the car bugs are gone. As I am sitting here typing I am noticing little tiny critters scurrying across my computer screen.
Where are you headed and how long are you staying?
Do you have any guns or alcohol in your vehicle?
Are you transporting any fruits or vegetables?
Are you carrying any fire wood?
In preparation for this third degree examination I was coached by My Man as to how to behave and what NOT to say to the officer. Basically it boiled down to "Shut up and Don't move!" Apparently it is also a "no no" to crochet while crossing the Canadian border. ( I was crocheting a pillow cover using a very small gauge crochet hook which seemingly could have been mistaken for a machine gun.) And so I sat back and let The Man do all the talking. The first question is an easy one . . . Alaska and Michigan. As for the guns and alcohol, if I am traveling 6600 miles in a small RV do you seriously expect me to remain SOBER ? And that would then also answer the gun question because you never put a gun in the hands of a crazy, drunk woman. As for the fruits and vegetables . . . Do I look like I am smuggling Brussel sprouts and pineapples ? And firewood ? Why would I carry wood with me when I can pick it up on the side of the road ? So much for all the silly questions. But I guess there is a very real threat of bringing an invasive species of bug from one country to another so they ask about things that could be hiding little critters. Fortunately we did not have any uninvited guests traveling with us.
Lucky for us we weren't driving MY car through Canada! Because I was going away for 2 full months I took the initiative of buying a cover for my car to protect it while it sat in my designated spot, under a tree in Florida, I figured the cover would protect it from the twigs and leaves and anything else that might fall from the tree. Unfortunately the cover also provided a nice warm, dark hatching spot for ants and spiders. Two days after my return to Florida I found a spider swinging from my rear view mirror. I am not bothered by the average spider so I let it fall onto a tissue and then deposited it outside the car to continue on it's journey. Little did I realize that Mr. Spider was in fact MRS. spider who must have made a nest and laid a TON of eggs in my car while it was sitting vacant for the 2 months. because the following day as I was driving down the road I realized there were tinny tiny little spiders running all over the dash board of my car. Every time I squished one 5 more would appear. It was sort of like the "Whack A Mole" game at a carnival. Then today when I opened the drivers door after taking my grand kids home I noticed a caravan of ants marching across the bottom of the car door frame. Upon further inspection I realized I had an entire colony of tiny ants living in the frame of all 4 car doors. That was the final straw . . . Bug spray in hand I went into attack mode and sprayed the living hell out of anything and everything that moved. (Thankfully the grand kids were in their house by then.)
My car now smells like a toxic bomb went off in it so in spite of the 90 degree weather I will probably have to drive with the windows open for the next 3 weeks. But the bugs are GONE !
At least the car bugs are gone. As I am sitting here typing I am noticing little tiny critters scurrying across my computer screen.
Monday, July 15, 2019
MY RECYCLE BIN RUNETH OVER
It is a good thing we have large recycle bins here in Florida because I finally finished going through my mail and I don't know if I will be able to lift up the recycle bin to get it out to the curb on Wednesday. It is over flowing with the rest of the junk mail that the USPS saved for me over these past 2 months.
I had once been told by a very reliable source who worked for the Michigan US Postal Service for ten years, that the post office will only save first class mail for you when you put in a "Hold Mail" request. Supposedly the PO will throw out all the catalogues and grocery store fliers.
NOT !!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have fliers for Publix dating back to May. A lot of good they will do me now so WHY did the post office feel the need to save them for me ?? I have several sheets of expired coupons for local restaurants and craft stores. Why did the post office think I would want them if I was going away for 2 months ?? As for the rest of the stuff that I left unopened in the post office bin yesterday. . .
Well lets just say my thrift store will be opening next week.
I thought yesterdays "haul" was good but today I actually found 2 refund checks so my bank account is now bursting with the added $37.26. Combine that with the fifteen cents I got yesterday and I may just plan a cruise or something !
But it doesn't stop there . . . todays treasures include 2 more "gold" angel coins, (I wonder if they would work in a slot machine?), 3 new calendars for the upcoming year, 3 "gold" necklaces, some sort of religious icon that you can stand on a table AND I can't tell you how many more greeting cards and return address labels. It seems there are actually people who still send cards so these are a hot commodity. As for myself, if I want to send a card to one of my friends I am going to go to the Hallmark store in the mall and buy the perfect card for that person. I don't do generic cards. Although there are any number of Mass cards included in my mail and those I do use. Unfortunately I DO NOT need 48 "With Deepest Sympathy" cards. At leas I hope I won't have that many friends kicking the bucket any time soon.
Hopefully that is it for large quantities of junk for the time being. I don't plan on going far in the next 2 months so now the mail man can go on vacation.
I had once been told by a very reliable source who worked for the Michigan US Postal Service for ten years, that the post office will only save first class mail for you when you put in a "Hold Mail" request. Supposedly the PO will throw out all the catalogues and grocery store fliers.
NOT !!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have fliers for Publix dating back to May. A lot of good they will do me now so WHY did the post office feel the need to save them for me ?? I have several sheets of expired coupons for local restaurants and craft stores. Why did the post office think I would want them if I was going away for 2 months ?? As for the rest of the stuff that I left unopened in the post office bin yesterday. . .
Well lets just say my thrift store will be opening next week.
I thought yesterdays "haul" was good but today I actually found 2 refund checks so my bank account is now bursting with the added $37.26. Combine that with the fifteen cents I got yesterday and I may just plan a cruise or something !
But it doesn't stop there . . . todays treasures include 2 more "gold" angel coins, (I wonder if they would work in a slot machine?), 3 new calendars for the upcoming year, 3 "gold" necklaces, some sort of religious icon that you can stand on a table AND I can't tell you how many more greeting cards and return address labels. It seems there are actually people who still send cards so these are a hot commodity. As for myself, if I want to send a card to one of my friends I am going to go to the Hallmark store in the mall and buy the perfect card for that person. I don't do generic cards. Although there are any number of Mass cards included in my mail and those I do use. Unfortunately I DO NOT need 48 "With Deepest Sympathy" cards. At leas I hope I won't have that many friends kicking the bucket any time soon.
Hopefully that is it for large quantities of junk for the time being. I don't plan on going far in the next 2 months so now the mail man can go on vacation.
Sunday, July 14, 2019
FREE GIFT FOR ME !
I have just spent the last hour and a half going through my mail from the past 2 months and have only gotten about half way through it.
Last night when I returned home my mail was waiting for me outside the kitchen door. It had been held for 2 months by the post office and then delivered to my door in a large white postal container that was over flowing. I picked up the bin and brought it inside thinking I would go through it later. I didn't get to it until this evening when I took it back outside and sat with the box of mail on one side of my chair and the paper recycling bin on the other. So far in this collection of trash I have received ONE personal card from a friend, 4 bank statements, 2 packages from Amazon and one bill from the water company. The entire remainder of the LARGE postal container is filled with C R A P !!!! That is not to say I have not gotten gifts in this large pile of junk. Or so the organizations who have sent me all this garbage would like me to believe because 4 out of 5 envelopes have written on the outside of them, "YOUR FREE GIFT IS ENCLOSED!" Lucky lucky me . . . I am the recipient of all sorts of free stuff.
Most notable so far is the free ROSE PRAYER PETAL.
This is a first for me. Never in all my years of getting junk mail have I ever received a free Rose Prayer Petal. I do not know what I am supposed to do with a free Rose Prayer Petal other than remove it from its holder because that is what it says. But the fact that the faux "rose petal" made out of some synthetic material makes me even less eager to touch it. Am I supposed to pray to the Prayer Petal? Am I supposed to hold it while I am saying my prayers or do I just stare at it and make wishes like Aladdin's Magic lamp? I am at a loss with this one. Some where there is some genius in marketing working for one of the twelve thousand charities who send me requests for donations who came up with this totally stupid idea. And the organization who bought into this dopey idea is actually thinking that anyone who received this piece of garbage will immediately sit down and write them a huge check?
Last night when I returned home my mail was waiting for me outside the kitchen door. It had been held for 2 months by the post office and then delivered to my door in a large white postal container that was over flowing. I picked up the bin and brought it inside thinking I would go through it later. I didn't get to it until this evening when I took it back outside and sat with the box of mail on one side of my chair and the paper recycling bin on the other. So far in this collection of trash I have received ONE personal card from a friend, 4 bank statements, 2 packages from Amazon and one bill from the water company. The entire remainder of the LARGE postal container is filled with C R A P !!!! That is not to say I have not gotten gifts in this large pile of junk. Or so the organizations who have sent me all this garbage would like me to believe because 4 out of 5 envelopes have written on the outside of them, "YOUR FREE GIFT IS ENCLOSED!" Lucky lucky me . . . I am the recipient of all sorts of free stuff.
Most notable so far is the free ROSE PRAYER PETAL.
This is a first for me. Never in all my years of getting junk mail have I ever received a free Rose Prayer Petal. I do not know what I am supposed to do with a free Rose Prayer Petal other than remove it from its holder because that is what it says. But the fact that the faux "rose petal" made out of some synthetic material makes me even less eager to touch it. Am I supposed to pray to the Prayer Petal? Am I supposed to hold it while I am saying my prayers or do I just stare at it and make wishes like Aladdin's Magic lamp? I am at a loss with this one. Some where there is some genius in marketing working for one of the twelve thousand charities who send me requests for donations who came up with this totally stupid idea. And the organization who bought into this dopey idea is actually thinking that anyone who received this piece of garbage will immediately sit down and write them a huge check?
But this isn't the only "free gift" I have received so far. The pile of crap is growing by the envelope. As of right now I have gotten at least 24 "free" greeting cards, a gold angel coin, 3 nickels, a yellow cross on a key chain, 4 ball point pens, a gift bag, 3 sheets of address labels, two 2020 calendars, 4 note pads and "pet tag" for my dog, (that I do not have). All of these groups are thanking me for donating to their particular organization or charity at some time in the past 74 years of my life.
This is all sent to me so that I, in turn, will feel obligated to send them money. But the joke is on them because my feeling is . . . If they can afford to send me all this crap they must have more money than they know what to do with. If they would stop sending me crap, save themselves the cost of the junk, the postage and the fees they are paying some marketing company to come up with these stupid ideas and then they will have enough money to fund their cause.
That makes total sense to me but apparently I am the only one who has figured this out.
Friday, July 12, 2019
THE JOY OF FLYING DELTA
I have never liked Delta airlines and would only fly with them when I had no other options. As in flights to Escanaba, Michigan. There are only 2 flights a day into and out of Escanaba and both flights belong to Delta airline. I think it may be that no other airline can find Escanaba on the map which does make me wonder that Delta CAN find this tiny obscure destination. What ever the reason I am locked into trusting Delta with my life.
Up until today ALL my Escanaba flights to and from West Palm Beach have been quite uneventful and so I have become almost complacent in my travels, trusting my life, limb and luggage to this particular airline. Then last night on the news there was the story about the Delta flight who's engine blew up in mid-flight. Not a good omen for my 3 flights today. But I told myself I had no worries, after all Delta has been great these last 3 years so I will be fine.
As I sit here in the Detroit airport for 3 hours because my flight is "delayed" my confidence in Delta is once more waining. For years I swore I would walk before I would fly Delta. It seemed that every time I booked a flight with this airline the flight was delayed or cancelled. I do mean EVERY time. It got to be a joke that we would factor in delays because we knew they would happen. The absolute worst was the flight from Florida with my 90 year old father that got rerouted to Wisconsin from Florida to Long Island. (Seriously how do you get to NY from Florida by way of Wisconsin?) Not only did they reroute the plane but they then cancelled all outgoing flights from Wisconsin so we had to spend the night in a horrid motel which the airline DID NOT compensate is for. My dad was in a wheelchair, we had to take a taxi from the airport to the hotel and back again the next morning and we only had the clothes on our backs. OH wait, Delta gave us a complimentary tooth brush and tooth paste ! Big freaking whoop !!
Second worst was the flight to Long Island that landed at Laguardia airport in Queen, NY and we had to wait 2 hours for a BUS to DRIVE us out to the Long Island airport at 2:00 in the morning.
So, I HATE Delta !!!
Today's flight was from Escanaba to Detroit where I had to change planes to fly from Detroit to Atlanta where I had to change planes to fly from Atlanta to West Palm Beach. If you have ever been to the Atlanta airport you understand the amount of walking from one terminal to another. Detroit is almost as bad, although a lot smaller, in that you arrive at one terminal have to go down the escalator to walk through a L O N G tunnel under the runways at the end of which you go back up into the BIG terminal and walk about a half mile to the gate which is ALWAYS the LAST one in the building.
Once at the gate I was delighted to find that my flight was delayed 2 hours which means I will now miss my connecting flight in Atlanta. This delightful information had me walking back down the terminal to the Delta Help Desk where there was No One ! There WAS a bank of phones so I talked to a person who's accent was so strong I could barely understand her. The resulting changes have me not only delayed 2 hours in Detroit but now will have to wait for 4 hours in Atlanta for a different flight to get me to West Palm.
All this is just part of the Delta game. The BIG question I now have is WHY was my plane delayed??
Maybe it is the one whose engine blew up the other day and it just took them this long to fix it.
Up until today ALL my Escanaba flights to and from West Palm Beach have been quite uneventful and so I have become almost complacent in my travels, trusting my life, limb and luggage to this particular airline. Then last night on the news there was the story about the Delta flight who's engine blew up in mid-flight. Not a good omen for my 3 flights today. But I told myself I had no worries, after all Delta has been great these last 3 years so I will be fine.
As I sit here in the Detroit airport for 3 hours because my flight is "delayed" my confidence in Delta is once more waining. For years I swore I would walk before I would fly Delta. It seemed that every time I booked a flight with this airline the flight was delayed or cancelled. I do mean EVERY time. It got to be a joke that we would factor in delays because we knew they would happen. The absolute worst was the flight from Florida with my 90 year old father that got rerouted to Wisconsin from Florida to Long Island. (Seriously how do you get to NY from Florida by way of Wisconsin?) Not only did they reroute the plane but they then cancelled all outgoing flights from Wisconsin so we had to spend the night in a horrid motel which the airline DID NOT compensate is for. My dad was in a wheelchair, we had to take a taxi from the airport to the hotel and back again the next morning and we only had the clothes on our backs. OH wait, Delta gave us a complimentary tooth brush and tooth paste ! Big freaking whoop !!
Second worst was the flight to Long Island that landed at Laguardia airport in Queen, NY and we had to wait 2 hours for a BUS to DRIVE us out to the Long Island airport at 2:00 in the morning.
So, I HATE Delta !!!
Today's flight was from Escanaba to Detroit where I had to change planes to fly from Detroit to Atlanta where I had to change planes to fly from Atlanta to West Palm Beach. If you have ever been to the Atlanta airport you understand the amount of walking from one terminal to another. Detroit is almost as bad, although a lot smaller, in that you arrive at one terminal have to go down the escalator to walk through a L O N G tunnel under the runways at the end of which you go back up into the BIG terminal and walk about a half mile to the gate which is ALWAYS the LAST one in the building.
Once at the gate I was delighted to find that my flight was delayed 2 hours which means I will now miss my connecting flight in Atlanta. This delightful information had me walking back down the terminal to the Delta Help Desk where there was No One ! There WAS a bank of phones so I talked to a person who's accent was so strong I could barely understand her. The resulting changes have me not only delayed 2 hours in Detroit but now will have to wait for 4 hours in Atlanta for a different flight to get me to West Palm.
All this is just part of the Delta game. The BIG question I now have is WHY was my plane delayed??
Maybe it is the one whose engine blew up the other day and it just took them this long to fix it.
Sunday, July 7, 2019
Wonder Woman
Did you ever "wonder" why Wonder Woman was called that ? I never gave it any thought till tonight when I realized that her name is not because of her wonderful powers it is because she lived in an all female society that killed any man who dared trespass. And the reason they did this is because every time they had ANYTHING to do with men it made them WONDER what the Hell was wrong with this alien species.
I wonder every day what I am doing choosing to live with another man after 46 years of living with Husband. I must be crazy !!! Because not a day goes by that I don't wonder what this man is thinking and why in God's name he behaves the way he does and why does he do the things he does. D happens to be no different from Husband although they are two TOTALLY different types of people. Husband didn't know one end of a hammer from another where as D has built rooms onto his house and taken down half of a barn. Husband couldn't figure out the workings of a lawn mower and D can fly a helicopter. Husband could make you laugh till you peed your pants while D never has much to say. D cooks, Husband didn't know where the kitchen was. D can actually work the TV remote but neither one could work an iPhone no less surf the internet. I love them both for all their oddities and quirkinesses but good Lord they can be such a pain in the ass.
There are so many things during the day that I just shake my head and mutter under my breath because neither man listens, (listened), to anything unless it is on Fox News and neither man can, (could), take criticism even when it is coated in sugar and honey. And WHY is the first reaction to EVERYTHING always "NO" ? Whether it is, "Dad, can we get a dog?" or "Lets go out to dinner tonight" the immediate reaction is always NO. Over the years I learned to never accept this first response as it is probably going to change once the male creature has time to process what ever was presented to him. It seems to be a Pavlovian reaction on their part . . . woman speaks, man says "NO". It's like a time delay in their brain where they can't think fast enough so if they just say "no" it gives them time to process. A woman on the other hand will take in information, think for a moment and then answer. If we aren't sure then we will SAY that we're not sure. Have you EVER had a man say he wasn't sure about something ? I never have. Even if the question is "do you want Steak or Chicken for dinner", they will answer with a definite "yes" or "no". They will NOT make the choice mind you, just answer "yes" or "no". giving you no more information than before you asked the question.
And so every day I WONDER about my sanity because I am still living with a man. I am constantly wondering if I really DID hear what I thought I heard. As in this evenings announcement from The Man that he was going to "TURN THE HEAT ON". Todays date is JULY 7th. It is summer and although we are in the northern regions of Michigan it is NOT cold by any standards. Today was the most beautiful of summer days with the sun shinning all day, the humidity was low and the temperature was about 78 degrees in the sun. Granted it is a little cooler in the shade but certainly not cool enough to warrant putting the heat on in the house. Once again I suggested putting on a shirt with long sleeves along with shutting some windows but that, like most every thing I suggest was met with a look of total puzzlement as if I were speaking Chinese.
And so I am now sitting here in my sleeveless shirt and shorts sweating profusely even though the outside temperature is about 68 degrees.
And you wonder why Wonder Woman had a problem with men.
I wonder every day what I am doing choosing to live with another man after 46 years of living with Husband. I must be crazy !!! Because not a day goes by that I don't wonder what this man is thinking and why in God's name he behaves the way he does and why does he do the things he does. D happens to be no different from Husband although they are two TOTALLY different types of people. Husband didn't know one end of a hammer from another where as D has built rooms onto his house and taken down half of a barn. Husband couldn't figure out the workings of a lawn mower and D can fly a helicopter. Husband could make you laugh till you peed your pants while D never has much to say. D cooks, Husband didn't know where the kitchen was. D can actually work the TV remote but neither one could work an iPhone no less surf the internet. I love them both for all their oddities and quirkinesses but good Lord they can be such a pain in the ass.
There are so many things during the day that I just shake my head and mutter under my breath because neither man listens, (listened), to anything unless it is on Fox News and neither man can, (could), take criticism even when it is coated in sugar and honey. And WHY is the first reaction to EVERYTHING always "NO" ? Whether it is, "Dad, can we get a dog?" or "Lets go out to dinner tonight" the immediate reaction is always NO. Over the years I learned to never accept this first response as it is probably going to change once the male creature has time to process what ever was presented to him. It seems to be a Pavlovian reaction on their part . . . woman speaks, man says "NO". It's like a time delay in their brain where they can't think fast enough so if they just say "no" it gives them time to process. A woman on the other hand will take in information, think for a moment and then answer. If we aren't sure then we will SAY that we're not sure. Have you EVER had a man say he wasn't sure about something ? I never have. Even if the question is "do you want Steak or Chicken for dinner", they will answer with a definite "yes" or "no". They will NOT make the choice mind you, just answer "yes" or "no". giving you no more information than before you asked the question.
And so every day I WONDER about my sanity because I am still living with a man. I am constantly wondering if I really DID hear what I thought I heard. As in this evenings announcement from The Man that he was going to "TURN THE HEAT ON". Todays date is JULY 7th. It is summer and although we are in the northern regions of Michigan it is NOT cold by any standards. Today was the most beautiful of summer days with the sun shinning all day, the humidity was low and the temperature was about 78 degrees in the sun. Granted it is a little cooler in the shade but certainly not cool enough to warrant putting the heat on in the house. Once again I suggested putting on a shirt with long sleeves along with shutting some windows but that, like most every thing I suggest was met with a look of total puzzlement as if I were speaking Chinese.
And so I am now sitting here in my sleeveless shirt and shorts sweating profusely even though the outside temperature is about 68 degrees.
And you wonder why Wonder Woman had a problem with men.
Friday, July 5, 2019
BOOM !!!!!!!!
Every so often we, / you / I / someone near and dear to us, does something SO incredibly stupid that we can't help but wonder what the Hell were we thinking, or WHY did I think I could do that. Even the most intelligent of people have their moments and only through the grace of God and our Guardian Angels do we survive our own stupidity.
Case in point . . . We ALL know you do NOT stand near an open flame when you have Oxygen anywhere near you. How many times have we laughed at the patients standing in their hospital night gowns outside the hospital entrance with their oxygen hose in their noses while having a cigarette. I know it is one of my favorite "Oxymoron" moments. (I love that word! It is so descriptive.)
But even the smartest of folks never think "That could happen to ME!" (What ever "that" happens to be.) But guess what . . . you only get so many Free "dumb ass" moments in your life and then, BOOM!
Out in the country here in Michigan the trash is only picked two times a month. For someone like me who tends to generate an amazing amount of trash because I am always throwing something away two times a month is just not enough. In a two week period I can accumulate enough trash to fill a 3 ton dumpster. So rather than having all this trash pile up out by the garbage can at the end of the driveway The Man chooses to burn his trash. He burns EVERYTHING except for magazines because according to The Man, "Magazines do NOT burn". Probably because of this belief and the fact that NOTHING gets thrown away around here unless I can sneak it into the "burn bag" there are TONS of magazines in the parlor. Granted most of them are craft magazines that belonged to Dwayne's wife and he seems to believe there are people out there who would love to have them but he will not part with them even to give them away.
Because everything gets burned, (yes even plastic, especially plastic) There is always a "burn bag" hanging in the kitchen just waiting for the almost daily bonfire. The ritual is for Mr. Man to gather all the burn bags, bring them outside to the fire pit and light them on fire. ALL THE WHILE WEARING HIS OXYGEN HOSE which is pumping a constant flow of 2 liters per what ever. The point being he has oxygen flowing into his nose as he sets fire to the trash. I did question the sanity of this way back when I first witnessed this ritual and was told, basically, "shut up and mind your own business". I have since shut up and now stand well out of range of possible explosions. Up till now there has not been a problem but there is ALWAYS a first time for everything.
Todays burning was a big one because two days ago we received a couple of deliveries from Amazon. (Yes, UPS delivers to the U.P.!) One package was a curtain rod for the RV shower. Small item, large box. Another item was a pillow which came in a box that a pregnant hippo could have fit in. With 2 very large boxes Smokey the Bear was just itching to get the fire going. I suggested, foolishly and pointlessly, that we break up the boxes but that idea was met with the same reaction as if I suggested we grow wings and fly. The fire got going and the boxes were thrown on top as the Man Sat about 8 feet away watching to make sure I was doing this correctly. (His exact words were, "Just throw them on top".) The next thing I knew D was yelling "step on it, Step on it!!!"
I had NO idea what I was supposed to be stepping on and the fact that I had bare feet had me standing there like a dope wondering what the hell he was yelling about. I finally realized the yelling was accompanied by pointing in the general direction of the house where I saw his oxygen hose ON FIRE! Now I have my stupid moments but no way in hell am I stepping on a fire in my bare feet. The hose is now sizzling and crackling and I'm trying to figure out how to stop the flame that is now burning along the hose like the wick in a piece of dynamite. The hose is rapidly melting and the flame is advancing toward the house where the oxygen tank is sitting just inside the door. I will admit I was totally torn between yelling, "F... YOU", and making a run for the woods or doing something to stop this disaster in the making. By now the man is yelling at me to "break the connection" between two sections of hose, which was exactly the right thing to do. I pulled the hose apart and sure enough the fire went out. (Supposedly the "connector" is like a safety valve that would automatically stop a fire but we were not inclined to test this out.)
What happened was that when the large boxes ignited the burst of flame caused a bunch of burning ashes to billow up and across the yard. One of those pieces of hot ash landed on the oxygen hose and was hot enough to set the hose on fire. Thus the reason to NEVER - EVER stand near a fire while wearing an oxygen hose. DUH !!!!
And The Man's reaction ? . . . " Huh, I never thought that could happen!"
Case in point . . . We ALL know you do NOT stand near an open flame when you have Oxygen anywhere near you. How many times have we laughed at the patients standing in their hospital night gowns outside the hospital entrance with their oxygen hose in their noses while having a cigarette. I know it is one of my favorite "Oxymoron" moments. (I love that word! It is so descriptive.)
But even the smartest of folks never think "That could happen to ME!" (What ever "that" happens to be.) But guess what . . . you only get so many Free "dumb ass" moments in your life and then, BOOM!
Out in the country here in Michigan the trash is only picked two times a month. For someone like me who tends to generate an amazing amount of trash because I am always throwing something away two times a month is just not enough. In a two week period I can accumulate enough trash to fill a 3 ton dumpster. So rather than having all this trash pile up out by the garbage can at the end of the driveway The Man chooses to burn his trash. He burns EVERYTHING except for magazines because according to The Man, "Magazines do NOT burn". Probably because of this belief and the fact that NOTHING gets thrown away around here unless I can sneak it into the "burn bag" there are TONS of magazines in the parlor. Granted most of them are craft magazines that belonged to Dwayne's wife and he seems to believe there are people out there who would love to have them but he will not part with them even to give them away.
Because everything gets burned, (yes even plastic, especially plastic) There is always a "burn bag" hanging in the kitchen just waiting for the almost daily bonfire. The ritual is for Mr. Man to gather all the burn bags, bring them outside to the fire pit and light them on fire. ALL THE WHILE WEARING HIS OXYGEN HOSE which is pumping a constant flow of 2 liters per what ever. The point being he has oxygen flowing into his nose as he sets fire to the trash. I did question the sanity of this way back when I first witnessed this ritual and was told, basically, "shut up and mind your own business". I have since shut up and now stand well out of range of possible explosions. Up till now there has not been a problem but there is ALWAYS a first time for everything.
Todays burning was a big one because two days ago we received a couple of deliveries from Amazon. (Yes, UPS delivers to the U.P.!) One package was a curtain rod for the RV shower. Small item, large box. Another item was a pillow which came in a box that a pregnant hippo could have fit in. With 2 very large boxes Smokey the Bear was just itching to get the fire going. I suggested, foolishly and pointlessly, that we break up the boxes but that idea was met with the same reaction as if I suggested we grow wings and fly. The fire got going and the boxes were thrown on top as the Man Sat about 8 feet away watching to make sure I was doing this correctly. (His exact words were, "Just throw them on top".) The next thing I knew D was yelling "step on it, Step on it!!!"
I had NO idea what I was supposed to be stepping on and the fact that I had bare feet had me standing there like a dope wondering what the hell he was yelling about. I finally realized the yelling was accompanied by pointing in the general direction of the house where I saw his oxygen hose ON FIRE! Now I have my stupid moments but no way in hell am I stepping on a fire in my bare feet. The hose is now sizzling and crackling and I'm trying to figure out how to stop the flame that is now burning along the hose like the wick in a piece of dynamite. The hose is rapidly melting and the flame is advancing toward the house where the oxygen tank is sitting just inside the door. I will admit I was totally torn between yelling, "F... YOU", and making a run for the woods or doing something to stop this disaster in the making. By now the man is yelling at me to "break the connection" between two sections of hose, which was exactly the right thing to do. I pulled the hose apart and sure enough the fire went out. (Supposedly the "connector" is like a safety valve that would automatically stop a fire but we were not inclined to test this out.)
What happened was that when the large boxes ignited the burst of flame caused a bunch of burning ashes to billow up and across the yard. One of those pieces of hot ash landed on the oxygen hose and was hot enough to set the hose on fire. Thus the reason to NEVER - EVER stand near a fire while wearing an oxygen hose. DUH !!!!
And The Man's reaction ? . . . " Huh, I never thought that could happen!"
Thursday, July 4, 2019
TICK WITHOUT THE TOCK
Up until yesterday if we were playing a word association game and you said "TICK" I would most likely respond with "TOCK".
Today if you say "TICK" I will respond with "WHERE? WHERE? "GET IT OFF ME !!!!" All the while jumping up and down and swatting at myself as if I were being devoured by a horde of hungry locust.
I HATE TICKS !!!!!!!!!! This is a long standing hatred dating back to 1970 when I moved to Eastern Long Island and discovered the world of ticks. There are NO ticks in Queens, New York. Ticks do NOT live on concrete or asphalt. They are grass and tree loving little bastards that sit in wait for the unsuspecting victim to brush up against their residence so they can attach themselves to you. Once on your body they scurry up your leg or arm or neck to find a warm, dark place in which to settle in and suck your blood while possibly infecting you with some horrible disease. Unlike the nasty, bothersome mosquito the tick gives you no warning of its presence until it has firmly attached itself to your skin and has gorged on your bloods so it swells to ten times it's original size. It creeps me out just writing about it. In the world of insects a tick is the lowest of the low ad the vilest of the vile. Have I mentioned that I HATE ticks ?!
I had not thought about ticks in YEARS. Florida, at least the part that I live in and I suspect probably most of Florida, does not have ticks. First, because it is too hot for too long, Second, it rains too much and Third, the landscapers cut the grass 47 times a day. Whatever the reason I have never seen a tick in Florida.
Michigan, on the other hand seems to be the tick capital of the nation. (At least this part of Michigan where I am residing at the moment. Lucky me!) I bought bug spray the other day to ward off the dive bombing mosquitos but never gave the ticks a thought. UNTIL, I was laying on the bed yesterday settling down for a mid afternoon siesta, as is our habit these days, and I felt something on my leg. (I knew it wasn't Dwayne because he was already asleep.) I reached down and picked something off my leg and sat up to look at what I had found. TICK !!!!!!!!
That little bastard didn't stand a chance because he was in the toilet being flushed to kingdom come in less time than I could spell T - I - C - K ! I haven't moved that fast in the past 10 years. BUT now my brain knows there are ticks around so I am crawling with itches. I am shaking out my clothes before I put them on and taking off my shoes AND socks before I come into the house. If I could I would take 20 showers a day just to make sure nothing was crawling on me. I am now obsessed with checking for the slightest spot that moves anywhere, any time. I KNOW they are lurking EVERY WHERE just waiting for me to brush up against them. My head itches constantly so I look like a Labrador retriever with flees, scratching at my head and swatting at my legs and arms. Even the car isn't safe because I know the nasty little creatures are on my shoes just looking for a ride in the car where I will be distracted long enough to give them the opportunity to crawl up my legs.
Even as I sit here writing about them I am constantly stopping to scratch an arm or my back. They are out to get me and I am at their mercy. Other than pouring vegetable oil all over my body so the ticks can't get a grip on my skin I am at a loss as to what to do. I guess it's time to "Google" how to kill, maim, incinerate, destroy, eliminate the evil tick. I hope I survive long enough to get back to Florida where there ARE NO BUGS !!!!
Today if you say "TICK" I will respond with "WHERE? WHERE? "GET IT OFF ME !!!!" All the while jumping up and down and swatting at myself as if I were being devoured by a horde of hungry locust.
I HATE TICKS !!!!!!!!!! This is a long standing hatred dating back to 1970 when I moved to Eastern Long Island and discovered the world of ticks. There are NO ticks in Queens, New York. Ticks do NOT live on concrete or asphalt. They are grass and tree loving little bastards that sit in wait for the unsuspecting victim to brush up against their residence so they can attach themselves to you. Once on your body they scurry up your leg or arm or neck to find a warm, dark place in which to settle in and suck your blood while possibly infecting you with some horrible disease. Unlike the nasty, bothersome mosquito the tick gives you no warning of its presence until it has firmly attached itself to your skin and has gorged on your bloods so it swells to ten times it's original size. It creeps me out just writing about it. In the world of insects a tick is the lowest of the low ad the vilest of the vile. Have I mentioned that I HATE ticks ?!
I had not thought about ticks in YEARS. Florida, at least the part that I live in and I suspect probably most of Florida, does not have ticks. First, because it is too hot for too long, Second, it rains too much and Third, the landscapers cut the grass 47 times a day. Whatever the reason I have never seen a tick in Florida.
Michigan, on the other hand seems to be the tick capital of the nation. (At least this part of Michigan where I am residing at the moment. Lucky me!) I bought bug spray the other day to ward off the dive bombing mosquitos but never gave the ticks a thought. UNTIL, I was laying on the bed yesterday settling down for a mid afternoon siesta, as is our habit these days, and I felt something on my leg. (I knew it wasn't Dwayne because he was already asleep.) I reached down and picked something off my leg and sat up to look at what I had found. TICK !!!!!!!!
That little bastard didn't stand a chance because he was in the toilet being flushed to kingdom come in less time than I could spell T - I - C - K ! I haven't moved that fast in the past 10 years. BUT now my brain knows there are ticks around so I am crawling with itches. I am shaking out my clothes before I put them on and taking off my shoes AND socks before I come into the house. If I could I would take 20 showers a day just to make sure nothing was crawling on me. I am now obsessed with checking for the slightest spot that moves anywhere, any time. I KNOW they are lurking EVERY WHERE just waiting for me to brush up against them. My head itches constantly so I look like a Labrador retriever with flees, scratching at my head and swatting at my legs and arms. Even the car isn't safe because I know the nasty little creatures are on my shoes just looking for a ride in the car where I will be distracted long enough to give them the opportunity to crawl up my legs.
Even as I sit here writing about them I am constantly stopping to scratch an arm or my back. They are out to get me and I am at their mercy. Other than pouring vegetable oil all over my body so the ticks can't get a grip on my skin I am at a loss as to what to do. I guess it's time to "Google" how to kill, maim, incinerate, destroy, eliminate the evil tick. I hope I survive long enough to get back to Florida where there ARE NO BUGS !!!!
Monday, July 1, 2019
HOT STUFF
You know you're getting old when the phrase "Hot Stuff" refers to your heating pad. My heating pad has become my very best friend and has traveled to Alaska and back with me. Thankfully I didn't need it on our travels but it is getting a work out now. Today I combined "Hot Stuff" with "Happy Hour". I can remember WAY back to the 60's when I first started teaching and every Friday the entire staff of my school, who's average age was about 26, would tear out of the school parking lot and head to "Robins Point", the local watering hole, where Happy HOUR lasted well into the night. Sometimes it even overflowed into the entire weekend and possibly didn't end till school opened on Monday. Ahhhhhhhhhh . . . the good old days.
Now Happy Hour takes on a whole new meaning when Hot Stuff and I lie down for a happy hour or more of napping. And those aren't the only things that have changed. Now when a man say's, "Hey there, let's get 'busy'", it no longer means sex, it now means EXACTLY what it says, you are about to be busy washing windows or mowing the lawn. Likewise a "Romp in the hay" refers to going out to the yard and raking up the cut grass. "Lets go shopping" does not mean you are going to the Mall, it means going to True Value or the Auto parts store. (Do you know how many tractor supply stores there are in Michigan and Alaska alone?) If you get real lucky you might just get to go to the Dollar store! "How about we have dinner out" translates to eating outside on the patio or possibly going to KFC or Burger King.
The first time I was flying up to Michigan to visit The Man he told me he would have the "frozen Pasties" ready for when I arrived. I thought I was going to be in for a fun evening since in my vocabulary "Pasties" were the things strippers wore on their boobs. I figured "Frozen Pasties" were some sort of Kinky thing that people from Michigan were into. Much to my disappointment I found out that Pasties, in this part of the country, are large meat and vegetable filled pastries that you eat for dinner. Dwayne totally confused me when he said he was going to have a "Pork chop" before dinner. I wondered why he would eat a pork chop BEFORE dinner since the pasties are HUGE. Come to find out he and his buddies up here refer to beer as pork chops.
Now Happy Hour takes on a whole new meaning when Hot Stuff and I lie down for a happy hour or more of napping. And those aren't the only things that have changed. Now when a man say's, "Hey there, let's get 'busy'", it no longer means sex, it now means EXACTLY what it says, you are about to be busy washing windows or mowing the lawn. Likewise a "Romp in the hay" refers to going out to the yard and raking up the cut grass. "Lets go shopping" does not mean you are going to the Mall, it means going to True Value or the Auto parts store. (Do you know how many tractor supply stores there are in Michigan and Alaska alone?) If you get real lucky you might just get to go to the Dollar store! "How about we have dinner out" translates to eating outside on the patio or possibly going to KFC or Burger King.
The first time I was flying up to Michigan to visit The Man he told me he would have the "frozen Pasties" ready for when I arrived. I thought I was going to be in for a fun evening since in my vocabulary "Pasties" were the things strippers wore on their boobs. I figured "Frozen Pasties" were some sort of Kinky thing that people from Michigan were into. Much to my disappointment I found out that Pasties, in this part of the country, are large meat and vegetable filled pastries that you eat for dinner. Dwayne totally confused me when he said he was going to have a "Pork chop" before dinner. I wondered why he would eat a pork chop BEFORE dinner since the pasties are HUGE. Come to find out he and his buddies up here refer to beer as pork chops.
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