Wukky's Birthday Magazine Edition...

At the Local Aussie Newspaper stand...

 

 

Happy birthday Wukky! ....(wicked grin)

(Graphic uploaded to photos, click to view for an enlargement on photo section)

HBD Dixie!

At the local news stands today...

 

Happy Birthday Dixie!

Thanksgiving Quiz

Well since I can't think of much to blog about today I thought I would just make a Thanksgiving quiz to see how you are going to be celebrating the holiday, even if you aren't celebrating the day feel free to post your comments...

 

1. At home or traveling?

2. Cooking or not cooking?

3. White meat or dark?

4. Is it stuffing or dressing?

5. Cornmeal or bread dressing/stuffing?

6. Cranberry sauce? Yeah or Nay?

7. Favorite pie? (or dessert if you don't like pie)

8. Kiddy or grown up table?

9. Favorite side dish?

10. What else is on the menu?

11. Did you ever have to dress up like a pilgrim?

12. Favorite Thanksgiving memory?

 

 

(Happy Thanksgiving everyone! I am thankful for each of you...)

HBD SUZI!

Found in the latest gossip rags....

 

The Waiting Room

Patience is a virtue, or at least I think it use to be. I have always thought that I was a patient person, never complaining, quietly biding my time til whatever or whoever it was that I was waiting for emerged. I am noticing though that more often I seem to be losing my patience. It's a trait I noticed in people I know growing older as well, that their patience wears thin at the best of times too. It makes me wonder if it is just something we go thru as we age or is it more of an individual thing? Is it really patience we are losing or is it just that we seem to be waiting more and more?

We wait in lines, we wait at signs, we wait for people, we wait on situations, we seem to be in a perpetual state of waiting. But what are we really waiting for? Are we waiting on life, are we waiting on death, are we waiting on God or are we waiting for something bigger and better to come along? We wait for our ship to come in, we wait for our luck to change, we wait for word of news, we wait on time and only seem to be losing even more time while we are waiting.

Now is when a lot of you will be reading this blog and thinking who has time to wait? My life is so busy I don't have time to be standing by idly waiting....but waiting you do without even consciously knowing it. You wait for appointments, you wait for the end of the work day, you wait on laundry to finish, you wait on your dinner to finish cooking, you wait on loved ones, and you wait ...and you wait ....and you wait in your life. Oh sure we fill that time of waiting with other things and trying to be productive, but you catch yourself saying to yourself, "this is just what I was waiting for" or 'you don't know how long I have been waiting to hear that", or some other thing that you weren't even realize you were waiting for until it arrives. I think we spend so much of our life waiting we don't even realize we are doing it.

I am starting to think we each have our own individual waiting room in this life. I think maybe the world is not really round at all but flat like they first envisioned. They just assumed that the earth was round because they got tired of waiting to get to the other side and ended up just going in circles. I think the earth is square, or rectangular...just a big building made up of waiting rooms for each of us. Some waiting rooms are opulent with a terrific view of the outer world, and some waiting rooms are just four plain walls with a rickety chair and out of date magazines.

So we wait. Time seems to stand still when we wait for something important to us, and then we look back and think wow has time flown since then. Not only has it flown but it has taken my patience with it.

I have a friend that once said, that when we are kids, time seems to drag because we wait with anticipation for things, as we get older time flies because we don't have that same anticipation that we did as a child. Time may seem like it is dragging by but the years seem to go faster. Maybe my friend has a point there. I have noticed how a lot of people I know seem to lose their patience in waiting as well. Maybe we are just sick and tired of waiting because we have already done so much of it. Maybe we think of it as time wasted with waiting and the sand in the hourglass seems to be trickling faster.

Time drags...and time flies, and still we wait. I have begun to think of life as not being so much about the journey as they tell us, but more about the waiting, and what we do or not do while we wait. A lot of you will read this blog and say, "Vic find a new hobby or something, stay busy". I am busy, it's not about spare time needing to be filled. It's about waiting and how at times we don't even realize we are doing it. But we do...a lot of it when you think about it. If you don't believe me, just you wait and see.

 

Green Baloney Sandwiches and Mister M....

 

 I had planned on writing a blog tomorrow about getting out to vote even when the choices given weren't exactly what we would wish for. The cost of the candidates out campaigning and the huge amount of money in advertising, phone calls, and infomercials spent to get us to tick that little box on our ballot sheets... To think it all comes down to a small check mark, amazes and scares me at the same time.

But my blog isn't going to be about voting. Voting has taken a back seat for me with an e-mail I received this evening in my in-box. A very dear on-line friend of mine had passed away and even though he had been in failing health the past few years, it did come as a surprise. Several of you who frequented garden chat in the past years will remember him as Momuleskinner, but to me he was always Mr. Momule.

Mr. Momule and I use to chat quite frequently in chat and on messenger. Buffy also chatted a lot with him and we had a friendly rivalry for his affections and who was his most favorite chatter. Buffy always claimed that she was number one and I was number 2. Whenever I would tease Mr. Momule about something in particular , he would scold me and say "Miss Vic, (he always called me Miss Vic) you are falling on that favorite scale down to number 13 or even lower".... Only copious amounts of sweet talking would bring me back up the list to hover near the top. Cyber gifts of green baloney sandwiches at lunchtime left on his yahoo messenger would send me crashing back down the list. Even though Buffy and I will never see eye to eye on who his favorite chatter was, I think we both would agree that he was always number one on our list.

It's ironic to think that Mr. Momule was just in my thoughts this past Halloween, and I had planned on e-mailing him to ask if he had raided his grand kids trick or treat bags for all of the good stuff. It had been awhile since I had caught him on messenger to chat. Health problems and back pain kept him from spending as much time on-line as he use to. He never ceased to leave me with a smile, and the pic posted above of him watering his tomato plants, speaks to me the most about him out of all of the pics he has shared with me. It never ceases to amaze me that thru one shared hobby with a complete stranger, can lead to a friendship spanning so many years.

I'll miss so much about you Mr. Momule and the numerous smiles you have left with me. It will be hard not to have you here and see you lit up on messenger. I'll be leaving you one more cyber green baloney sandwich, ..just because...

Messing Around...

Halloween...

 Scary Story....

It was a dark and stormy night.
In the quiet there was a small eerie crackling sound.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up.
All alone I sensed it, but couldn't feel it.
I squinted hard and peered into the darkness,

and let out a blood curdling scream....



My candy bag was empty.

THE END.







Happy Halloween everyone...

In the News....(HBD Zzee!)

Found at the local news stand today....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZZEE!!!

SleepyLady's Blog Dare....

Okay I am game for anything, and I have answered SleepyLady's dare she had up on her blog page and I am posting this...I even stole her pic from the blog,...guess you can add "Thief" to that one word description too,lol

Oh yeah, words such as "dweeb, dorky, dufus, idiot, moron, loser, lame, etc", should technically fall under the category of UNIQUE...(snicker)

 

SleepyLady put this on her page  and said ...

  How many will actually be brave enough to post this to THEIR blog will be interesting - yeah that is a dare!!!!   So there you are SleepyLady I have taken up the challenge which is to ask my Friends to describe me in one word. Just one word.   Post it below in the comment section.   Then if you want to go ahead and post this on your page and see how many strange things people say about you.   Ready? Go for it

Birthday Gifts...

Thanks to everyone who sent me cards, gifts, offlines, and well wishes for my birthday yesterday. All in all it was a pretty good day except for the getting older stuff. Thankfully I made it to that (cough) 29th year milestone ....again.

Birthdays... I just  can't get excited about them. It's a reminder of time passing and getting older, and grayer and more cynical about everything. But this year wasn't so bad, it wasn't an extraordinary birthday, it was just another day...with cake. But cake is a good thing, and so are birthday presents. I doubt if many of you remember a blog I wrote last year on my three wishes. It was a blog about three different things asked for my birthday and ended up buying or making myself. I'm an adult, I should know by now, or expect that what you ask for you don't always get, it's just a fact of life. But this year...this year I am happy to report that I got my wish..I even got it several days early...

When having lunch out with my mom one day, she casually asked what I wanted for my birthday, I looked her straight in the eye and said... "I want several bags of topsoil/humus manure mix"... Yes folks, I asked for a pile of poo for my birthday...

I thought my mom was going to bust a gut laughing. It's not every day someone asks for a pile of poo for a birthday gift, but the practical and gardening side of me was in the need for some to amend a new planting bed. It took some convincing but I finally had her believing I was serious, and a couple of days later she drove up and proudly announced she had my poo. As I unloaded the bags into a wheelbarrow, my mom chattered on about the fact that not only had she got the stuff I had wanted but it was on sale...it was on clearance and was super cheap. My ears perked up...cheap poo? My mind already wandering about picking up even more bags of poo, darn why hadn't I asked for a bigger pile of poo?

By now most of you who are reading this blog entry are beginning to think I have totally lost it. Who in their right mind would be excited over bags of that brown muck? It's something I have noticed about me changing thru the years....I have become practical...very practical. Oh I love sparkly crystal, pretty linens, perfumed lotions, etc. But I find so much of those things tucked in drawers or cabinets, hardly ever seeing the light of day. They just take up space or need to be cleaned and dusted.

When I was asked for what I wanted, I was working on a newly spaded up garden bed. It needed the soil amended. It was what I needed for that moment. Next year when asked, I most likely will ask for something else other than bags of poo. But whatever I ask for, I know it will be something practical and be put to good use......And every time I work out in that new little flower garden I will have a giggle or two remembering the look on my mom's face when I asked for a birthday gift of a  pile of poo...

Happy birthday to me.....happy birthday to me....

Safe Haven

 This morning I read with interest a story in the news about Nebraska's Safe Haven Law. This law, also found in many other states, was put into effect to help prevent the abandoning of new born infants. The mother after giving birth and unable to care for, or not wanting the child, could walk into a hospital and drop their infant off with no questions asked. I am sure this law has saved many babies lives across the country. It lifts a burden from a mother that might be unwed, unemployed,or  unable to cope with the demands of a baby.

Most states limit the amount of time a mother can drop off the newborn infant, some only give the mother 72 hours. Some states give the mother a month, and some states have set the limit to one year of age. Nebraska's Safe Haven law doesn't specifically have any age limitations set. The past week and a half, area hospitals have found themselves with a bit of a quandary. Two young teenagers and one pre-teen were dropped off at local hospitals by their parents, and last night a father walked into an Omaha hospital and left all NINE of his children, raging in age from 1 year to 17 years old.

I have to admit that one of the first things that ran thru my mind, is that they should have insisted on the stipulation that the father get a vasectomy upon leaving all of his kids. Nine kids....wow...I had to wonder on how a parent could just one day decide to give up nine kids. There was no details given in the case, and I tried to think of every scenario.... An illegal immigrant? A homeless or soon to be homeless man? Has the economy gotten just that bad that raising nine kids is impossible on your own? Was the father baby-sitting and they got on his last nerve?....and where is the mom?

A sad story, and out of those nine kids my thoughts seemed to dwell the most on the 17 year old. Seventeen is almost an adult, but not quite. I couldn't think of why give up the 17 year old kid? At seventeen, they are self sufficient, or on their way to being self sufficient. Was the teenager  rebellious? Into drugs? Running with the wrong crowd? At 17 you aren't going to be the first kid to be adopted. One more year and then the teen will most likely be out on their own. Not the greatest start in their adult life. No one has to worry about babies though, everyone wants to adopt babies. But at 17 you should be in your senior year in high school, thinking about graduation and college, senior prom, class rings, and your biggest worry should be about having a pop quiz in history class. The economy is tough right now, for a 17 year old with nothing and no family to fall back on for support, emotional and otherwise, is daunting... I felt bad for the kid...

I know Nebraska's Safe Haven law will be getting an overhaul after this last case. Limits will most likely be set, and older children won't probably be included. I have mixed feelings over it. If it keeps a kid off the streets, or prevents the abuse of a child, who cares about limits? At the same time, I know that given the option, most parents will be tempted to drop off their kids at local hospitals the moment they turn into those sullen, backtalking, disrespectful, hormonal imbalanced teen-age semi-adults. Here take my kid, he/she is driving me nuts.

A safe haven... everyone should have one. A place to go when there is no where else to turn. The economy gets any worse and I may turn myself in... afterall, I haven't really grown up that much....

M & M...Birthdays Times Two

A special magazine double issue of the Enquirer for the blogging world's troublesome twosome each celebrating their special day....

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MORGAN!!     HAPPY BIRTHDAY MISTY!!

 

Labor...

I've been thinking on what to blog about today for Labor Day. Most Americans will be off enjoying the day, at flea markets, football games, picnics, the beach, or some other means in which to celebrate the day dedicated to work... At least I assume that is what the day is about, I had planned on googling on the history of Labor Day and just what exactly it means and stands for, but that seemed like too much effort. So instead I have opted to take the lazy approach and just blog on my day of bone idleness. So far I am maintaining my stride of not breaking a sweat... thank goodness for air conditioning.

I have thought alot about labor and what it truly means. I thought about blogging on my grandfather, a farmer, he never seemed to ever really have a day off from work. I remember him so brown from the sun, anyone who didn't know him would wonder on his ethnicity. He had always been a farmer since I could ever remembered, and I loved to listen to the stories grandma would tell of when they were first married and trying to make a living. Grandpa would toil all day and then come home and have to cut wood at night by the headlights of an old truck. When times were particularly lean during the depression he hopped a freight train for the west coast to work out in the fields. His was a lifetime of labor, hard back breaking labor that spoke a lot about the man he was. I will admit, I have never had to know that kind of labor, that kind of body weary work. Maybe some days, but not every day that it took to make a living and survive for him and his family.

Work...it makes me tired just thinking about it. Today I thought I would do as little of it as possible. There was some things I had to do like laundry and dishes, but as far as anything too tasking I decided to spoil myself. No mowing, string trimming, weeding, or tilling. For the past month I have been digging, thinning and resetting an old iris bed. The plants were taking over, spreading into other clumps and crowding out less vigorous varieties. It's hard work and I am glad it isn't something I have to do every day. Still I found myself invigorated upon seeing the newly set out rows of iris and without too much convincing I stuck in an order for a couple of more iris rhizomes. It's getting towards the end of the planting season for them and I am a bit worried that I will receive notice that my order can't be shipped and I will have to reorder next year. Part of me will be disappointed if that happens, and part of me will be relieved that I won't have to do any more work. It's something I have to keep reminding myself when I see new plants, bulbs, rhizomes, trees, and shrubs that come on sale in the fall for planting. It's a lot of work that I place on myself, not because it is necessary but because I like seeing the results. I think of the investment of time in my labors and know that some would think me crazy, but it wouldn't be the first time and I know it won't be the last either.

 

I am opting for ease today, total ease, in whatever I do. Even with blogging I have taken the easy approach. No thought provoking blog of substance, and just a hop and a skip and jump across a few contact's blog that are showing any movement. I was tempted though, tempted to make graphics, tease some, nudge others, and cause mischief. But it sounded like too much thinking, too much work. Even when the thought of cookies crossed my mind, I balked at the thought of it being too much effort. There is a reason that rice krispy bars were invented. They were invented for people like me. I thought about it, but didn't end up making them...it's because of that work thing or lack of work thing that I am sticking too. I did however come across my recipe for butterscotch no bake cookies and wondered if I ever posted the recipe for Vero. So Vero (and whoever else wants it) here is the recipe. I will go to the work of typing it for ya, making them will be up to you (grin)..

Butterscotch No Bake Cookies

2 cups sugar

3/4 cup butter or margarine

2/3 cup evaporated milk

*Bring to a boil and boil 3 minutes, then add:

1 small package INSTANT butterscotch pudding mix

3 and 1/2 cups quick cooking oatmeal

1 cup coconut

1/2 cup chopped walnuts or pecans (optional)

Mix and drop on wax paper and cool.

*Every recipe I come across for no bake cookies has different times for how long to boil the cookie mixture. Some say just bring to a boil, some say boil a minute, some say to boil 5 minutes. It is up to you and your favorite recipe and how soft or hard of a cookie you want. I would use the same amount of time you usually use for the chocolate version of this recipe. Good luck!

For all my intentions today, I think my blog entry of "fluff" can be excused...anything else would have been too much work...

 

Dance Fever...

 

Rumors of a new dance craze hitting the UK were confirmed today when one of the original members of the MkChippendale dancers was seen leading a renegade group of psychiatric ward inmates.

The dance, dubbed "the MkChippy", has reportedly been seen in Liverpool, Glasgow, parts of southern Canada, and in remote areas of Oklahoma. Quickly rivaling the hokey pokey in popularity, it appears to only be a matter of time before it becomes a standard at weddings and bar mitzvahs.

When questioned by BBC America on the popularity of his dance moves, MkChippy replied, "I just dance like nobody is watching"......to which his wife, Sleepylady replied, "I know I keep my eyes closed when he dances"...

The Little Engine That Could...

 

 "I think I can....I think I can....I think I can"....

We have all read those words in the children's book of "the Little Engine that Could", it's a story of perseverance and believing in yourself. Sometimes though in real life, that little locomotive engine becomes more than what it is,...it becomes a huge conglomerate, a corporation, an entity unto it's self.

The other day my mom gave me a booklet she had received in the mail and wanted me to look up the information on-line and explain to her just what the booklet was about. I delved into the book and googled the website url given in the book/pamphlet that was listed and read up a little on the material. It has to do with a case trying to be settled out of court by the optic fiber cable companies and landowners with property they may have next to a railroad where fiber optic cable was buried.

Pretty boring and mundane stuff I thought at first glance, but I have to admit the more I read on the website and booklet the more intrigued ....and incensed I got.

Years and years ago, the railroad was built on "corridors" of private land and were given easements on the properties for the maintaining and running of their railroad. The Fiber Optic Cable company in an agreement with the railroads, proceeded to bury their cables on the railroad's easement in order to bypass all of the landholders it would have required to garner permission from to bury the cables. Hence a class action suit was filed by a private landowner, that later lumped all landowners within this case.

Pretty sneaky when you think about it.

Now unless you were born in the 1800's, chances are any railroad corridors were already cut and dried years ago....Easements were obtained and the railroad acquired rights in that easement. Just think of the untold amounts of money they would be able to obtain for letting whichever companies they decide to use those easements. You may own the original property, pay taxes, maintain upkeep in a huge part of that easement, but in the end it's not really up to you how your property can be used. I understand all of that part, it's like the utilities that put up telephone poles in your yard, street maintenance, sidewalk maintenance, which the city owns the easements too. At times it doesn't seem quite right though, and I can understand why this has caused a furor with the fiber optic cable companies. I am a bit perplexed as to why the railroad companies weren't included in the case. I think there is some guilt that lies at their door for profiting and future profiting for an easement obtained for their original means of business.

I know a lot of people will read their pamphlet/booklets and think automatically they will become rich. In the settlement, they will be paid per foot for the easement used by the fiber optic companies. From there, things become a little more confusing. How much you will be paid will depend on what kind of "corridor" the railroad runs in that area, when and what kind of easement was obtained and a bunch of other gobbledygook for their basis of payment. It can run anywhere from 13 cents a foot to a couple of dollars. If you were a farmer with acres and acres you might see a considerable profit. I am guessing that most people will only see a fraction of what they hope for. In exchange for this settlement payment you will be giving the fiber optic cable companies a PERMANENT easement that can and will cover a significant distance. The exact distance I can't find listed as of yet.

I think that is what bothers me most. The cable company already has what they want. Their cable buried on private property. In the terms of the settlement, they will also have their own easement which they can then use as the railroad did to garner more profits from other companies for use of that easement. If you do nothing, the easement is AUTOMATICALLY theirs. Payment to you will be after several appeals down the road. By then the prices paid per foot could change, if they are paid at all. In order to not be a part of the settlement, you have to option out by sending in a letter with names, addresses, legal descriptions of the property, number of feet, give the case number, everything entailed in their booklet.

I think that is a lot to be expected of the owner of the property in question. I wonder how many property owners who are like my mother and hate messing with anything sounding legal and confusing. My mother has issues with just returning an item to the store. She hates hassle. Numerous times she will give me an item and receipt and ask me to return it for her. If I don't, it will end up being something stuck on a shelf, never used, and collecting dust.

Maybe I am wrong, but I have told her to option out of the settlement. It will require me typing up the letter for her, finding all the legal information, go walk off the property to gauge the amount of feet it involves and helping her to get it all situated and mailed off by the due date.

It makes me do a small burn when I think about it...

That little engine that had self doubts sure has grown up...now it thinks it really can do anything...

Distractions....

It was an exciting past week-end here in the world of Multiply blogging. A cyber birthday for MkChippy full of Trekkie fans and aliens, html and videos. Pics of whatzits, Suzi smoking,... Sue doped up on drugs with lepper-cons aboard Captain Morgan's pirate ship. Vero's Jack in the beanstalk pepper plant, (or a possible midget confession) Mac's reappearance in the blogging world, and a host of other blogs that lead to the distractions of every day life.

If only real life could be so exciting...but it never is, or at least not in the way we hope it to be. Between all the giggles and postings, I will admit to having a few grumblings this past week-end in my real world. During one of the hottest weeks in the month, the ancient hulk of a deep freeze in it's quiet little corner decided to give one last cough and sputter before dieing a most inopportune death.

Sunday....why does everything have to break down on a Sunday? Living in the middle of nowhere in my cornfield, the closest thing open is a discount store and if I am lucky, a Dairy Queen. I can't get a deep freeze at either, except for a brain freeze at the DQ if I eat my ice cream too fast.

So some of the unintelligible frozen blobs of something were farmed out to other places. Some crammed in the fridge, some moved to another fridge of my mother's...and some just had to sit tight in state of semi-mushyness til they could be fostered out (or frosted?) to a new home. Frozen bags of shredded zucchini were rock solid... bags of this year's crop of strawberries were thawing quickly along with frozen pizzas. I've been eating pizza for two days now, and I think I will be having a few more days of the stuff.

It's enough to give a person a head-ache trying to figure out what should be cooked, what looks okay and is pretty solid yet, and figuring out just how many jars a person needs for bags and bags of thawed strawberries now needing to be made into preserves. I think some stuff is just going to have to be cooked and frozen again.

I am not sure on whether to be thankful or not that the two year old turkey at the back of the freezer seems to be okay. I'd gladly give up the turkey for something else that takes up less space.

So today was a day spent looking for a new freezer and having it delivered. Everything is now tucked in it's new home, minus a few things.... okay several things....

Anyone have a good recipe that calls for strawberries, thawed pizza, coolwhip, peas, hamburger and a package of bacon?...

 

(Come on Chef Mac,... I know you won't disappoint me).... 

Captain's Log: Stardate 0719.8....

 

 

 

Captain's Log: Stardate 0719.8...

Happy Birthday MkChippy! I am sure it only seems like it was light years away since your first days of blogging. Enjoy your day at being at the helm of your blog-ship.

Live long and prosper...and all of that other Star Trek stuff I can't remember,lol....

 

(p.s...you are not under Romulan attack, the smoke is from the birthday cake... Thanks kezza for letting us know the exact year it was for MkChippy, I would have been wrong on the candles...wink)....

 

You Ought to be in Pictures...

 

 

One always dreams of making it big time. The fame, the glamour, the endless pursuit of the papparazzi hounding you for just a glimpse,.. a picture....

Well, I finally made it....thanks to Zzee and her "connections" she has landed me on the cover of not one but TWO magazines. I knew that my fashion sense and style would turn heads and it would only be a matter of time that I would arrive...

Okay I will admit the National Geographic- Geography has me a bit perplexed in that I never travel much except to the edges of the cornfield, and as far as I know I don't think I am an endangered species, but I will admit to being unique and one of a kind...

But Vogue....yes Vogue is where I belong, with the flash and sparkle of a cubic zirconia tiara, I have found my niche in the glamorous catalog... Til I squint my eyes and see it's not really Vogue but Vague...

"Sigh".....okay who told? I thought I was doing a pretty good job at disguising my cluelessness, but evidently they must have glimpsed more than one glassey-eyed vacant look....So Vague it is... It's just as well, being a fashion diva is hard work...I can muster being vague with two hands tied behind my back and a twinkie stuffed in my kisser...

Vague just seems to fit...

...too well most days...

 

 

(Thanks for the giggles Zzee!!!)

Thanks....

Thanks for all of the offlines, cards, e-mails, prayers, thoughts and well wishes. I am starting to feel half way human again and hope to be back to terrorizing and pilfering chocolates from all of you soon. As far as what exactly I had, all I know is that the doctor's called it Cellulitist, which is a pretty broad term for an infection from a bug bite, spider bite, blister, scratch, etc. Now personally I hate that term. Cellulitist has to do with a skin infection but to me it sounds too much like that word "cellulite". I have visions of all of you scratching your heads and thinking, 'Vic is suffering from moldy cottage cheese thighs?'

But things are improving and I finish up the last of the anti-biotics this week. I will be glad for that as I have had a few side effects from them, one of which I learned was that it can cause problems with tendons, which explains the ankle tendon messed up now. The blood tests came out okay, there were a couple that weren't in yet but the doc seems to think everything is in order. I am a bit anemic though, which didn't surprise me, I am not a big meat eater.

Stink Pot the cat has bounced back and forth between, sprawling on or near me constantly or total aloofness, (yeah...she is the same as ever).

I hope to catch up with your blogs this week, and find out what has been going on in your lives. I can't have ya having too much fun without me! lol.....Take care and thanks...

Color Correction...

COLOR CORRECTION

Some days you can be just too pink...

I don’t know what I did exactly last week, I don’t know if it was a bug bite, spider bite, cat scratch, or something else. But I ended up with a blistery red spot on the inside of my leg, right where the knee bends. I couldn’t get a band-aid to stick so out I drug some gauze and adhesive tape and I taped that sucker on so well I knew it wouldn’t come off even if I went swimming. I guess that was the wrong thing to do... By evening the inside of my leg was so red and sore, I thought it was the tape and that it was chaffing or was put on too tight and pulling at the tender inside of my thigh. So I took the tape off and thought that would help. By morning I was sicker than a dog, nauseated, headache, fever. Still clueless, I thought I had caught the flu, I had been around family that had been battling the flu. So I laid in bed and shook for a couple of hours with chills and kept checking my temp. I ached all over, and my leg did too. When my temp hit 103.6, and I saw the redness was creeping down my leg, I knew I had an infection. I took some Tylenol and got into see the doctor just after lunch.

Waiting in his office I just sweated buckets, and all I wanted was water...just give me a glass of water was all I could think. The nurse took my temp and blood pressure and when the doc came in he asked what was the problem. I told him I thought I had an infection and needed an antibiotic. He looked at the bottom half of my leg and said yep, infection, and sent me on my way with a prescription. So I went home with my bottle of pills and lived on water and toast till about the third day. My temp had gone down, I wasn’t as nauseated, and my leg did seem not quite so swollen, but it had changed. My pinky leg had gone a mottled purple. I made another appointment and got in to see the doc for a second time.You just know when the doc doesn’t say anything but sucks in air thru his teeth that isn’t a good sign. So I went straight to the hospital and got poked and prodded and bombarded with a million questions when all I wanted to do was sleep and drink water. It’s funny how after everyone left I couldn’t sleep then. The nurses kept peeking in to check up on me, vitals every four hours, and some crazy lady across the hall who kept yelling hello. If only I could have gotten her to yell "Marco"...I could have yelled "Polo" back and it might have relieved some of the monotony.

The second day the doc came back in with a horde of people, interns I am guessing or some teaching class, but they had all come to garner a look at the lady with the purple leg. I tried to pretend to be half asleep, it’s hard to muster a lot of dignity when your leg is getting felt up by strangers with all of the "ooh’s and ahh’s". Two more docs came in later and sat and looked at my leg and threw back ideas for more antibiotics, as they thumbed thru their little electronic gadgets looking up info. Finally they came up with something that made them both agree and as they left, they said they would be back, one later and one at 4 o’clock. I told them both to come back at the same time and we would have a party. I am not sure if I was still a bit loopy then, or if it was just me, but I will blame it on the drugs.

I finally got to sleep a few hours by the third day and it’s funny how things go thru your mind. I couldn’t help but think if only I had a webcam and laptop, I could do a live webcam of my leg and you all could watch it turn different shades, but I guess that would be about as interesting as the cornfield they have on webcam for the farmers to watch the corn grow. Still I though of all of you, any time I surfed the TV channels and came across the shopping network, I couldn’t help but think of Sleepy lady, which got me to thinking about MkChippy, and then onto the rest of you and what was going on in your lives and blogs. I thought of Morgan and her band of merry pirates and how I really was going to end up being "pegleg vic". By the fourth day I was climbing the walls and ready to go, sick or well, just wanted out of there. My arms were starting to match my leg from all of the needle pokes, blood draws, and IV’s. It seemed a line would never last more than a day and then it would infiltrate or leak and then it was back to the other arm to poke around some more.

Finally on my last day, with yet again another different doctor, he thought maybe I was well enough to go home as long as I was loaded down with antibiotics. They found a drug store open on the week-end and had them deliver the medicine out to the hospital. The woman would not let go of that bag of pills though till she was paid. Thank goodness I had my check book with me, or I think she would have gone back to the pharmacy with the darn pills. It just floored me, but I guess that is how our health care system is going. Money up front or it’s no deal.

I am doing a bit better, the leg is more mauvey-pink now, except for my ankle which still looks a bit angry. I think a part of that though is I feel like I have torn my Achilles tendon while walking on the leg when it was so swollen. At least that is what it feels like, so it may take longer for the leg/ankle to heal up than expected. Sitting seems to aggravate it more, so I haven’t been sitting up much with it. I go in later this week, and hopefully I get a good report. I already know it is going to be another round of antibiotics but pretty soon I should be back on here and in the pink...but not so pink that I am purple...

Born Free...

 Yesterday for a short while, Stink Pot was a fugitive... she had escaped. It was awhile before I realized it was awfully quiet and then I noticed the cat was nowhere to be found. I searched the house high and low for all of her favorite spots and finally determined she must have snuck outside unnoticed. She has made her run for freedom a couple of times and usually I find and capture and return her back inside within a few minutes. I am not sure how long Stink Pot had been missing but it could have been an hour or more.... I felt so guilty.

So I walked around the house softly calling "here Stink"..."here Stink"... and then louder..."here Stink"... just hoping the neighbors weren't outside to hear me. I was worried, she wasn't answering. I looked high and low and still no Stink Pot. I went back inside and looked again. Frustrated I stood looking out the back bedroom window and called again.

Then I saw her. She crawled out from among the shrubbery onto a rock and looked up and meowed and ducked back underneath a bush. She continued this game every time I called her. She knew she wasn't suppose to be outside. She knew she was in trouble. The more she ignored me, the more a dark cloud settled over me.

That darn cat....

I begged and called her to come, while she frolicked among the shrubbery. I mentally kicked myself for planting the shrubs in the first place. I had a mixed border of wiegelia, spirea, viburnum with an assortment of perennials mixed in. She chose the biggest shrub to hide under, the one that was blooming profusely and covered in bumble bees... I hate bumble bees...

After so long I realized I wasn't going to get near her, she was going to have to come to me. I then thought of the bright idea of dangling a piece of string, and hoping with her playful nature, she would take the bait. ...I could not find a piece of string..or yarn...or anything... I momentarily considered dental floss, but pulling a piece of it out of the package, I realized it was just way too thin. Finally after digging in my closet I found an old belt from a terry clothe robe. I stood at the edge of the border and coaxed her with it till she crept closer and I could grab her...

She hissed...she growled...she spit...

I hissed and growled, (but didn't spit), right back.

We spent the rest of the day ignoring each other. She sitting in the window and pouting. Me fuming that  most of my morning had been wasted trying to catch an obstinate cat. I know cats can survive on their own outside, and some would say to let her be an outside cat. I have considered it. She loves to stalk,  hunt, and be on the prowl. Goodness knows how many twist ties she has attacked and brought down with her stealth-like manner. She will do a little ceremonial dance around the offending twist tie, pounce, and then do an odd somersault roll. She does this odd roll every single time. I am not sure if it is some kind of animal death roll for it's victim... if she has been secretly watching the WWF while I am not at home, or if it is all for my benefit and she is expecting me to hold up a piece of paper, giving her a 6.0 for her dismount. 

She thinks she can take on anything. Whether that is from lack of sense, or a huge ego, I don't know. She will do her little dance around me as well...hopping in circles, waiting to attack my ankle. All my finger shaking and mumbling to her,.."hey I am bigger than you"..., has no affect. I think if she were to be an outside cat, her nine lives would be gone within a week. I know that being an outside cat her life expectancy will decrease dramatically. I don't think it's quite fair to my neighbors either having a roaming pet. Somehow we will have to come up with some sort of compromise, Stink Pot and I.

She wants her freedom, and I want her to live... For now she will just have to make do with practicing her WWF moves while I hum the theme from "Born Free". If you listen really quietly you can hear a little thud....yep, another twist tie take down.

She is a natural.... a natural born predator...

O' Pioneer...

 When I was a kid I use to love to read stories on the pioneers and read about the hardships they faced. I found it fascinating that they just packed up and moved westward to unforeseen territory and dangers to build new lives. It took guts, determination, and a strong will to forge that path. It seemed everything they endured, and life in general, was full of hardships with endless work just to survive and eke out a living.

They were tough, those pioneers...

I remember sitting at my grandmother's table and listening to stories of hard times, and what people did just to keep body and soul together. My grandmother would often tell stories of her own mom's life and all the work she did around the farm to keep it going. I knew my great grandmother, I grew up and always remembered seeing her sitting at my grandmother's, her daughter's, table. She was always dressed in a cobbler's apron over a cotton dress, hair in a bun,... and she would just sit. It was hard for me to visualize her as the woman my grandmother spoke of. My great grandmother would point at things she saw that needed to be done......swat that fly...sprinkle the paprika on the deviled eggs, ...and other small insignificant details she saw while sitting. She didn't seem so tough, she just seemed old. I guess she really was when I think of it.... no wonder she sat, she must have been tired.

My great grandmother was a school teacher for a year or two, eventually married great grandpa, and they then moved to one of their farms. Their folks were rich, and they were rich, until the great depression and they lost all but one small acreage. Great grandpa was a jack of all trades...a truck driver, a barber, he also broke horses, but if there was hard work to be done on the farm, one of the hired hands did it or great grandmother. Listening to my grandmother speak of her mom, it amazed me, ...she amazed me. Great grandpa would fell the trees and great grandmother worked the wood up by herself. She milked the cows, she grew a huge garden, planted trees, ..it sounded like she did most of everything, and I am sure she felt like she did too. She was to me, a pioneer...a strong pioneer woman like I read about in my books. She was strong, she was fearless, she was fascinating...

The other night I got to thinking about those pioneers in our past when my electricity went out and I was without those modern conveniences we have. It was storming, skies were brewing, rain was falling, there had been talk all day of monster storms that could erupt. Tornado watches had been issued, flood warnings, wind warnings,... all kinds of warnings ...

I watched the skies, and the layers and layers of angry clouds roll past. I watched them til it became too gray and rainy to see them any more. I wandered thru the house, hoping for the smallest glimmer that the electricity would flicker back on. I couldn't find a battery operated radio, I couldn't listen to the news, I was cut off...all alone from the outside world and I was.....bored.

How in the world did those pioneers do it? An oil lamp, lit, didn't give off enough of a glow to do any thing. How they managed not to go blind by using them to work by in the evenings is beyond me. How did they fill their evenings? Or did they? Did they just go to bed once it got dark? It was hard for this nightowl to comprehend. Usually I adore sleep... there is nothing better than curling up and taking a nap on rainy days, or staying in bed as late as you can on a week-end morning....but I wasn't tired... I was bored. The storm raged...and I fumed, peeved at my inconvenience of no conveniences.

So I did what all good pioneers would have done in my situation. I grabbed my tiny flashlight and made my way thru the house. I perched the flashlight carefully on the counter and I dug in the cold darkness til I found it. Moments later I was back perched by the window, peering into the darkness, the flashlight and two scoops of chocolate chip ice cream by my side.

I had saved the ice cream from certain melty oblivion... Okay maybe the carton didn't seem that squishy and I had to put a little more muscle into scooping out that first scoop, but it wouldn't go to waste. Everyone knows how fast ice cream melts...or would be melting soon in my powerless fridge. After awhile I finally just gave up and went to bed. Ten minutes later and the electricity came back on.

I had persevered. I even in fact felt a little pioneer-ish. I had kept my sanity, I had survived the storm, I had been totally powerless,....for an hour and fifty-five minutes...


This pioneering stuff ain't for sissies...

 

 

Monday, May 26, 2008

 

Thank you...

 

 

Disorderly Conduct...

 Well I have been informed it's time for another blog entry. Like most of you, there hasn't been a lot going on for me to blog about. Most of my spare time has been spent out in the yard and gardens trying to get caught up with never ending work.

Gardening is work, and at times I wonder why I don't have an easier or more simpler hobby. I get hot, I get dirty, I get exhausted with gardening. I should have chosen something less taxing like stamp collecting, knitting, or building model airplanes. I think with every hobby there must be a downfall and I know that most likely with the stamp collecting I will acquire a papercut on my tongue from licking,...poke myself in the eye with the knitting needle, or both eyes since there are two needles used... or glue my fingers together with the model building. I chose gardening, or rather gardening chose me.

Gardening can be seductive with it's glossy colorful catalogs, and promises of beauty surrounding you at every turn. What those catalogs don't mention are the weeds, the weather, and the disorderly conduct of a lot of plants.

I have been gardening for a long time, and like all gardeners, we tend to learn things the hard way about plants and planting. I think perhaps the biggest mistake I ever did was in my choice of planting material for a long steep bank that flanked the driveway. I needed a plant that would help with erosion control, be maintenance free, and look pretty. A pretty tall order when I think back on it. So I skimmed the catalogs till I found something that I thought would look nice..... I ordered......crownvetch.

I can hear the gasps from those seasoned gardeners at the mere mention of the plant. Yes, I, Vic, did plant crownvetch.....and not just one plant. I ordered fifty plants for my long stretch of bank. They grew...they thrived...they took over anything in it's path. I've sprayed ever since to kill the stuff that runs by underground runners and it still runs everywhere it shouldn't.

I take the blame for those plants that I plant, but there are also those plants that plant themselves...those reseeding wonders. Now being a bit on the frugal side of gardening, I tend to like plants that give back by reseeding or spreading and increasing their beauty. You know those kind of plants that neighbors share with neighbors till everyone is growing Mrs. Edwards iris, or some other vigorous plant material...And if I am truthful with myself, I will admit to being a plant hoarder. I hate to not plant or replant those offshoots and plant babies. Flower beds and gardens are extended just to make room for those new additions.

The other day while out in the backyard I looked over one of my shady borders and noticed how well some of the plants were growing and how some were still just emerging, when I happened upon my woodland phlox. For those of you that don't grow the stuff, think a taller version of creeping phlox, more open, delicate and in the lovely shade of light periwinkle blue. I had planted a few plants several years ago in my border and they were up and growing about 6 inches......but... If one were to look a few feet over by a tree where the picnic table was, there was some rogue phlox... Tall, blooming, wild, renegade phlox that completely covered the area under the picnic table. I know if I were to dig up the plants or move the picnic table they wouldn't be happy. They were plants with a mind of their own. So for now I won't be using the picnic table much and will let the neighbors wonder why I have the loveliest flower bed under my picnic table.

It wasn't just the phlox either. I spied some Japanese painted ferns, and a tiny bleeding heart that jumped ship and were huddling quietly, but happy in their chosen spots. I couldn't help but think, as I glanced up and down my flower borders for a sparser area, shovel in hand...."don't worry little guys I will save you".

Somehow at times I think it is me that needs saving.

Mother's day is coming up this week-end and a lot of people will be buying their mom a card and a gift, and being a gardener I will be getting my mom the gift of flowers...The kind she can plant. Hopefully she will have better luck in keeping her plants in line. Having raised four kids I think she already has a distinct advantage.

Happy Mother's Day Mom....

Shaken and Stirred...

 I know it's been awhile since I have written a blog and today I thought I better write something, anything to just get back into the blogging groove of things. There really hasn't been much exciting to report on, and like most of you, I have been eagerly awaiting the arrival of spring. Yesterday was the first real day that actually felt like winter was behind me and that spring was waiting to burst out in all it's glory. It was finally warm, over 70 degrees, the forsythia and daffs were blooming, and after many trips out to the garden daily with my spade....the soil was finally dry enough for me to break out the rototiller.

Now unless you are a gardener you won't understand how exciting a prospect this is to a person. There is nothing like the feeling of getting out in the veggie patch, hanging onto for dear life to a shaking machine of whirling tines, and eating a bit of dirt as you try to prepare the soil for your future planting efforts.

It's because of gardening that I found most of you, thru chats, or blogs, or other means, most of us had a common interest, and bond of gardening. For some it's a hobby, for others a means of livelihood. For years in my rural area, gardening took on a fever pitch of it's own. Everyone had a garden, large or small it didn't matter, everyone just grew a garden of something. There would be arguments and disagreements on which varieties were better than others, but for the most part, if you had a crop failure of tomatoes or onions or green beans, you would find yourself loaded down with sacks on your doorstep of extra produce.

What I remember most though from all of those years of gardening were the neighbors within my neighborhood. Just down the hill from me was a retired farmer and his wife and even though they had moved into town he brought with him a small tractor that he used to plow his garden each year. One door down from him was another gardener. A couple with a large family that grew a huge garden to feed all those hungry mouthfuls. Over a block or two, another couple, childless they grew a garden for themselves but ended up giving most of the produce away each year.

With all of those neighbors, there was a bit of an unspoken competition.....who would get their garden in first. It was as if the moment the sound of a tiller, caused such a commotion as to make the other neighbors drop what they were doing to peer out their windows, over their fences and sneak a peek on who was out in their garden. Once that person had started up their rototiller, they had shaken up the neighborhood, and soon the air was filled with the hum of other rototillers. Neighbors would walk or drive by,...stopping to ask what you were planting and then soon rush home to start planting as well, so not appear to be left behind. Once you had broken out that tiller, it was a silent challenge to your neighbor.

Yesterday when I finally started up my rototiller late in the morning, the air was quiet except for the whirling blades of my tiller. I didn't hear any other motors start up. The old retired farmer and his wife have long since past, their home now sitting empty and used for storage by another neighbor. The couple down the hill from them, also passed on, their large brood scattered except for the youngest son now living their with his small family of two. The childless couple over from them, still gardening, but out of town and visiting friends. It was a quiet day on my block and it seemed a bit sad and melancholy to not hear those familiar sounds and stirring of old friends and neighbors playing in the dirt as well.

I sat outside for a bit last night and enjoyed seeing the darkness of the newly turned earth of my planted garden and listened to the birds, a few car door slams from people coming home from work or going out for dinner. Leaning my chin on the handle of my hoe it was so very peaceful. My next door neighbor soon drove by....and later drove by again very slowly. It gave me a small devilish smirk on my face,.... I knew I had stirred them up a little bit and they would be out tomorrow tilling their garden if it wasn't raining.


It's a small town version of keeping up with the Jones's ...but in a good way.


***side note: Today I opened up a can of black olives and StinkPot the cat went absolutely nuts. It was as if I had waved a cluster of catnip in her face. As I am typing this blog she has dug the empty can out of the trash...again... So does anyone know if olives are good/harmful for cats?

Wizard of Odd....

(click pics for larger views)

Follow the yellow brick road, follow the yellow brick road....

Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow the yellow-brick road...

Follow the yellow-brick, follow the yellow-brick....

Follow the yellow-brick road...

You're off to see the Wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Odd...

 

Wisdom...

 

 It's been a bit slow in the blogging world lately. I think half of the bloggers are out with the flu and the remaining bloggers are all suffering a bad case of cabin fever. Spring is taking it's sweet time arriving and a lot of us haven't been having much excitement in our lives to blog about. It's been awhile since I wrote a blog and today I thought I better get on the ball and post something...just anything...to blog for blog's sake just to have some kind of activity to stir up the staleness of my page.

So today's blog is going to be out some of my own personal bits of wisdom. Not that I am particularly wise, far from it. All of my personal bits of wisdom I have learned the hard way, but in reality isn't that what wisdom is all about?...Learning stuff the hard way...it makes a lasting impression on you...

Vic's Bits of Wisdom....

Don't lend friends and relatives money. If you feel you have to,... don't call it a loan, call it a gift that doesn't expect to be paid back....because you won't be paid back. Thinking of it as a gift, helps you to deal with watching them buy motorcycles, new cars, big screen tvs, and all kinds of other fun stuff instead of paying you back...

No matter how big of an attitude you have, your cat's is bigger...

Don't throw a bag of frozen gooseberries in a fit of anger,...you will be finding gooseberries for months afterwards....

Don't put a hot glass pyrex dish on a damp counter...it will explode...

Sweet little old ladies are few and far between....

Don't tell your niece and nephew you are an alien from another planet...they will believe it as long as they believe in the Easter bunny and Santa Claus..and possibly longer...

Don't say anything in front of a three year old that you don't want their parents to hear...

Don't correct or chastise a child who is tearing your home apart while visiting... Do expect to hear a lecture from their parents on how since you don't have any kids your opinion doesn't count...

Don't take away anyone's fantasy world by trying to get them to face reality. Some people need their fantasy world in order to function...

Not everyone who attends church is a Christian...

Not all atheists don't believe in something...

Socks are only meant to last one year...

Buy a good bra...

A good neighbor is worth more than a new car...

Do your spring cleaning before May or you will never get it finished the rest of the year...

Pet your neighbor's rotweiller puppy to make sure it grows up to like you...

An active imagination and a bucket of rocks will keep a kid entertained for hours...

Don't steal someone's thunder,even inadvertently...

You don't have to wake up perky and chirpy in the morning...just be glad you woke up...

A good pair of shoes is hard to find...

Four cups of uncooked macaroni makes a heck of a lot of macaroni salad...

Silver has to be polished often, and that dipping stuff doesn't work worth a darn...

Dusting is futile...

Quickest way to learn how out of shape you are, is during the first full day of Spring yardwork...

Don't expect everyone to like you, some people you just rub the wrong way...

Don't expect everyone to read you blog and comment...


I know I have a lot more to learn...and I am sure I will learn it....the hard way...

Have a great week-end peeps!

 

 

Year of Living Dangerously...

  This morning I was chatting with someone on gardening and different things each of us was planning to grow this year, when the conversation turned to cooking. They mentioned that this year they wanted to be adventurous, live dangerously, try new foods, different herbs, recipes, etc. My mind drifted to stir-fried squid, stinky tofu, and a host of other exotic foods heard about but never tasted. I shook my head and mumbled something about can I just live the year dangerously with meatloaf?

Meatloaf is safe, meatloaf is calming, it's filling, it's hot, it's something I can make that requires little effort or skills and still turn out. Anyone that is single out there, knows that we think nothing of calling a handful of pretzels and a diet soda, lunch. When we delve into making a meatloaf it's almost like a commitment... a safe commitment.

A year of living dangerously....it got me to thinking. I haven't been dangerous in a long time. I have been content in my little rut, continuing to make it deeper so that my rut has ruts. Meatloaf, like my life has been safe ....and predictable. Reading the blogs by Teddy and Possum lately of their plans to go on the Orange Walk in Vietnam have made me realize just how un-adventurous it has been around here lately. I have never been to a foreign country, flown in an airplane, or even experienced a culture completely different than my own. A huge part of that I blame on fear. Fear of people speaking differently than me, fear of flying, and fear of tapeworms. Yeah, I know, I have watched too many reruns on tv of Gregory House, but it's still there....fear of tapeworms or some parasitic creature in that foreign delicacy about to be served to me. So I play it safe and stick with what I know. Maybe this should be the year I live dangerously too.

I am not even sure where to begin on living dangerously. There are so many parts of my life that could stand to be shook up and given a change. Adventure and change go hand in hand. Some adventures, okay a lot of adventures though are out of my reach, just as they are for a lot of people. Changing myself though or being willing to change isn't. At my age...it's kinda scary. Old habits are hard to break, ruts are hard to climb out of, making a change to live dangerously is scary. I know for me it will take babysteps.

A year of living dangerously....it sounds like an adventure. Maybe this year of 2008 will be that big adventure. I don't even have a clue on where or what to change, but if only one small thing happens, it will at least be something.

As I sit here writing this blog, StinkPot the cat is perched precariously on top of my old monitor, trying to keep an eye on me while enjoying the warmth generated from the computer. Looking at her, it's obvious from the left side of her face, with the shortened, frizzled whiskers she has gotten to close to a light bulb or from the crock pot bubbling away on the kitchen counter. Poor StinkPot, I don't know, maybe we should stick with the "Year of meatloaf", this year of living dangerously stuff just might kill us...

Romantic...

 

"Isn’t it romantic?

Music in the night, a dream that can be heard.

Isn’t it romantic?

Moving shadows write the oldest magic word.

I hear the breezes playing in the trees above

While all the world is saying you were meant for love.

Isn’t it romantic

Merely to be young on such a night as this?

Isn’t it romantic?

Every note that’s sung is like a lover’s kiss.

Sweet symbols in the moonlight,

Do you mean that I will fall in love perchance?

Isn’t it romance?

(instrumental)

Sweet symbols in the moonlight,

Do you mean that I will fall in love perchance?

Isn’t it romantic?

Isn’t it romance?"

( Lyrics by Lorenz Hart, music by Richard Rodgers)

 

 

What is romantic?

The past couple of days leading up to Valentine's Day today I have pondered on that question. Every person has different thoughts and views on what they would consider is romantic. I thought that for this holiday for lovers, it would make a good blog entry,... this romantic stuff. So one evening this past week after having dinner with my mom I asked her the question...."What is romantic?".. Our conversation didn't exactly quite go as I was expecting,... It went something like this:

Me: "Mom, what do you think is romantic?"
Mom: "What is romantic? I don't know any romantic men, all I know is rheumatic men".
Me:... (eye roll)...Okay well what do you think is the most romantic gift you have ever gotten?
Mom: "Expensive jewelry".
Me: "Expensive jewelry you consider romantic?"..."you don't wear jewelry hardly at all".
Mom: "Well getting the jewelry was a surprise".
Me: "So anything else you want to elaborate on stuff that is romantic?"
Mom: "I did date a few guys in my younger years, but I just wanted a good time".
Me:...(shocked look)" MOM, do you know how that sounds?"
Mom: "I didn't mean it like that, I just liked to go out dancing, dinners, movies, some guys wanted to be more serious".
Me: "So when I write my blog on romance, I can tell everyone my mom said she only sees rheumatic men, thinks expensive jewelry is the most romantic gift, and you only were out for a good time"..."do you know how bad that sounds?".
Mom"...(giggle)... "well I did have a few encounters in my life".
Me:.. "ENCOUNTERS??!!"...."MOTHER!"...
Mom: ....(giggle)..." I only meant I have dated more than I thought when I look back on my life when I was younger"...."maybe I have been reading too many romance novels"....(giggle).
Me: "Yeah I think so"....(eye roll).

So much for going to my mom for the source of romance. Having four kids I thought for sure she would enlighten me on to what could be considered romantic.

Off I went on a search for what is romantic. I was lucky enough to catch a few friends on messenger and I posed the question to them. I asked the same amount of men and women to make it more fair and then thought I would post the results from my survey of what is romantic.

I have to tell you I was shocked. Not shocked at the answers but by who gave me those answers. Would you believe that the more romantic and sentimental answers were given by the men? I thought for sure when I asked the question of them, I would receive answers back such as ....hockey tickets, powertools, and sex.. Okay maybe that is a bit chauvinistic of me to expect those kind of answers, but I didn't expect the level of "mushiness" from the men. Maybe they were giving me the answers they thought I wanted to hear, but I don't think so. When you get right down to it, men like romance as much as women. Some of the responses I got from both sides of the spectrum when asked the question "what is romantic" were:

Feeling special, feeling supported
What someone does
Cooking dinner for your lady while she is taking a bubble bath
A loving glance
Touching and holding someone's face
Kissing
Holding hands while walking
A gentle touch
A gleam in the eye
Watching sunsets together



Hearing their answers it made me think harder on what I thought was romantic and I was asked by one or two people on what I thought was romantic. I told them, what I think is romantic ....is the unexpected.

I am not just talking about spontaneity either. I think romance can be found in almost anything and in anyone. It can be said with flowers, candy, jewelry, greeting cards....and it can be said with just a smile, a touch or fried potatoes....

Fried potatoes you ask,....yes in fried potatoes. I knew a guy that would stay up waiting for his wife to get home from working second shift. When she walked thru the door after midnight he would have waiting for her a plate of hot fried potatoes,...one of her favorite foods. He did it just because....

I like that... fried potatoes....it's just so unexpected.... and romantic...

 

 

Shadow...

 It's official...

Over this past week-end, Santa saw his shadow and it will be at LEAST another six weeks til Easter...

...or something like that....

This past Saturday my family finally gathered on groundhog's day to finish the last of our Christmas celebrations from 2007, that had been rescheduled 3 times because of the weather. It was a nice day overall, sometimes sunny, sometimes cloudy, with nary a groundhog or reindeer or any other creature making an appearance....(well, not counting relatives of course).

After finally coming out of a sugary,chocolatey, fudge induced coma from December, I found my own shadow looming over the fudge plate again....twice. I will promise to refrain from fudge again for another year, or 10 months, or whenever Christmas should make it's appearance again in 2008. I have even contemplated giving up chocolate......(yes you read that right)....giving up chocolate for the next month or two, along with all of the other candy delights of Valentine's Day and Easter.

No chocolate for 60 days. It's hard to type, let alone whisper out loud. It would be a lot easier to substitute brussell sprouts instead. I could give up those too,....those cabbage-y tasting brussell sprouts. Brussell sprouts and chocolate...chocolate covered brussell sprouts... or I could just give up one of them....say the brussell sprouts and still have the chocolate.

So there ya go....I am giving up brussell sprouts for the next 60 days....who said I didn't have will power?...

Well....we will see about the chocolate...... I am weak... weak and pathetic...I willingly admit that...But thoughts of being shadowed by a big behind might make me stick to it....

It's been a long winter, and I have been having the worst case of cabin fever. Just when you think the weather will start to warm up, more snow will fall, along with the frigid temps. I keep searching for the slightest hint of spring, but haven't found it yet....

No robins....no flowers....no green buds....and no chocolate.

I guess it's still stuck, hiding in winter's shadow....

...along with the groundhog, Santa...and the fudge.....

 

 

The Bloggy Bunch...

(click for larger image)

Here’s the story of a crazy Kiwi,

Who was blogging with some others over time.

All of them had blogs of fun, like their cohort,

The bloggers shared in crime.

 

Here’s the story of a man named Wukky,

Who was busy with mischief of his own.

They were bloggers, blogging all together,

Yet they were all alone.

 

Til the one day when this blogger met this fellow,

And he knew that he was much more than a chump.

That this guy was much more than some huhus,

That’s the way they all became the Bloggy Bunch.

 

 

The Bloggy Bunch...

The Bloggy Bunch...

That’s the way they became the Bloggy Bunch...

 

(okay maybe I shouldn't be left alone when I am really bored)...

 

 

Guilty as Charged.....

 I am being stalked by Girl Scouts....

Okay it was only one Girl Scout, but she showed up at my door late this evening. I was surprised, it was unexpected. It was cold, it was dark and it had been a snowy day. Thin mints and coconut thingies hadn't even crossed my mind, and I did something I have never done before.... I said "no". Well I did turn her down a little more kindly explaining that I had already bought cookies from another Girl Scout. She turned and left back into the cold darkness and as I shut the door, it hit me....the guilt.

Why is it that turning down a kid selling cookies can wrangle so much guilt? I was tempted to throw the door back open, beckon the little Girl Scout in and buy cookies, extra cookies, to make up for my callousness in saying no. It's just something I haven't really done before. I have blogged before on my weakness for little kids sent door to door to sell stuff. I never say no, I always buy something. I have bought cookies, cookie dough, pizzas, candy, nuts, gift wrap, candles, popcorn, beef logs, cheese tubs, ornaments, bread braids, cookbooks, raffle tickets, magazine subscriptions and almost anything else that those two legged creatures can carry on their return trip to exchange for my money.

I still felt guilty though, and adding to that guilt was the fact I knew this particular Girl Scout. I knew her mom, her dad, her other siblings who had sold me stuff in the past. I knew her grandparents, and pretty much everyone ever related to her. I mentally cringed. I just know the shockwaves would be reverberating off of her parents, her grandparents, and her siblings, and all those other relatives. For the first and only time I had refused to buy anything. All of those purchases in the past I knew would be overlooked in this one moment. It wouldn't matter that I have spent enough in my past purchases to put their other kids thru college...(okay maybe just a junior college)..... I had said no...and it bothered me and still continues to bother me.

I am not even sure why I said no to begin with.... It might have been that it was late and I was tired. Part of it might be the fact that expenses are rising and I need to cut back on non-essential things. It might just be that I am tired of seeing little creatures at my door asking for money for things I don't particularly want or need.

I was tempted to call....call up her mom and say ...Yes! yes, I have found room in the freezer I can take some Girl Scout cookies after all, and then proceed to buy boxes of more cookies to cover my obvious faux paux. It's ridiculous, this guilt feeling. It use to be I would feel guilty for eating the cookies, now I have the added guilt of not just eating, but also not buying the cookies. Guilt can work on you, and it does. Without even leaving your home or doing anything.... guilt will find you. Just saying "No" opens up those floodgates of guilt. It just doesn't cover cookies either, it covers everything, or at least it does for me. I hate saying 'no' when someone asks me for something. Whether it is my time, or a favor, or even just cookies, denying the person who requested something of me, makes me feel guilty. It shouldn't, but it does. I am not sure if it is some deep seated feeling that by saying "no" to them, that I am somehow failing them.

At this point you are most likely mumbling under your breath and rolling your eyes, and thinking..."Vic, it was just a box of overpriced cookies". Call me a sap...a sucker...I know it was only cookies.

I can't help but think of the little girl in dark and the cold and the snow, trudging door to door to ring the bell to make the same plea while I sit at my computer and sip hot cocoa....

A steaming cup of rich hot cocoa with gobs of sugary marshmallows...




...that is a whole other guilt trip all of it's own.

Alligators, and Some Bits of Insignificance

 It's been pointed out to me it's been awhile since I have written a new blog entry. I guess the new year is not fairing much better than the old year in my blogging habits. It's not that I have been lazy...well maybe a little.... but I just haven't had much to blog about. My world has been pretty quiet with only little bits of insignificance to blog about. I just haven't had much to report, or much to report on that was interesting.

It's cold... I think you all know that.

It snowed.... I think you all know that or have the white stuff too.

I am all out of Christmas goodies, but according to Sue and Mike that is a good thing. I still wistfully hope that I will find some chocolate stashed in the cupboard I didn't know I had put there. All is not lost though in that the Girl Scouts found me. Soon thin mints and those coconut thingies will be on my doorstep. You didn't read that though Sue.... they are for the homeless. Okay maybe not for the homeless but for the cookie-less. I will be good, no more than two cookies a day Sue....promise.....finger cross, etc,etc....

Judy has asked about my cat Stink Pot and the little stinker continues in all of her bad habits. No amount of training or attempts at training have had much of an impact. She runs, she claws, she bites when feeling ignored. Who needs kids, I have my own ankle biter. She lives to annoy me most days and most often succeeds. It's subtle, but I know it's on purpose. She will perch on top of the desk or buffet, or anywhere she can.......pat at an object with her paw, pushing it closer and closer to the edge and then watches it fall on the floor. She then sprawls out and hangs her head over the ledge to watch it for any signs of movement or trying to mentally will it back on top so she can push it off again. It's like our playing fetch game, I am doing all the work and she is watching me do it. Yes I will admit it, I think I am being outsmarted, but I always thought it would take more than just a cat.

**UPDATE**Christmas continues....argh. My aunt has called this week to inform me that the extended family Christmas get together has been rescheduled for the third time for....February 2nd. It would be so funny if it wasn't so ridiculous. I am toying with the thought of handing out Valentine's cards on all the packages. I am just quirky enough to do it too.

It's a blog about a whole lot of nothing of importance. Little stuff that makes up our days, that fills our weeks, and adds to our lives. This week I happened to visit my old chat room for a few minutes and learned a chatter of long ago had passed away. Most won't remember her from the early chat days, some will just think of her as being Hands_talking's mom. But I remember her from the beginning of my chat days, when I first stumbled into a chat room. I remember Aunt Molly, or "auntie" as she was known to most of us. She was a welcoming, right-wing, pistol-packing Texan with an outspoken clarity that left little doubt as to where she stood. She was the reincarnation of Annie Oakley. She hunted, grew roses, lived for her family, wrestled alligators, and allowed no cussing in the chat room. Okay maybe the alligator stuff was just a rumor, but I am sure given the opportunity she would have given it her all.

It's been several years since I had caught her on-line to chat. A lot had happened in her life over the years,..the death of her husband "Uncle Andy", sickness, moving to a new home.... but that is how life is, it's always changing things, and changing people,...myself included. 

I am thankful for the footsteps,... those significant imprints that each of you make and leave behind in my life,...even the alligator ones.



We will miss you Aunt Molly.

Living in the Past....

 Happy New Year! I know it is already the 3rd of January but for me it still feels like I am living in 2007. I know I am a bit of a procrastinator but I swear that this time it was not my fault. Christmas really didn't arrive till just two days ago on Jan. 1st. That is what I get for whining on a previous blog that December of 2007 was going to be a busy month with 5 different celebrations and parties to go to. Factor in the weather, conflicts of schedules and I only made it to one of those celebrations. Christmas was officially canceled.

I didn't have to worry about finishing shopping, I didn't have to worry about unbaked cookies, I didn't even have to worry about putting up the Christmas tree. Christmas day came and went like any other ordinary day. I didn't even make it to any after Christmas sales to stock up on next year's Christmas. I was being a Christmas bum and I have to tell you......it felt nice.

Well that is til, the very end of the month of December and it was decided to have Christmas on the 1st of January. Then a mild panic took hold, and it was back in the kitchen to bake, back to wrapping presents, and thoughts of putting up the Christmas tree. I did finally get it up and decorated...on the 1st, and it came down the next day. Christmas not only came late it stayed for less than 24 hours.

I have to tell you that celebrating Christmas on the 1st of January of 2008 made me feel as if I was living my own version of a Christmas Carol, and that I was being visited by the ghost of Christmas past... , while presently celebrating Christmas.... in the future New Year. I didn't have any visions of ghosts though, even if at times I seemed a little scrooge-ish.

The whole Christmas seemed odd and out of place, as if we were left behind while others were off and into new and exciting things. It got me to thinking how much we change as we get older and we no longer have that excitement and wonder of Christmas that a child still has. Christmas can seem like a chore, something to live thru, bare with until it passes. We moan and groan about the hassle, and time involved and the unappreciated costly gifts that could have been money better spent. No matter how much sparkle and bling we have on the tree, we can't seem to find the spirit of the holiday.

Thinking back on Christmas's past, I can't remember all of them, only small pockets of memories that stick out. I can't remember every toy I received or what everyone else had gotten from Santa. Those memories are there in the back of my mind with a brightness of a mellow glow that only time can give it a true luster. Present day Christmases can't compare. Those celebrations contain people no longer with us, times we can't recapture. It has to wait it's turn to join those other past Christmases and leave it's own footnote. It has it's advantage of being savored at that very moment it is happening, but there is also that feeling of knowing it is time that is fleeting. Future Christmases have that element of the unknown. Children growing up, family dynamics changing, not knowing the time or place or who will be there for that next Christmas.

I felt a bit of all three Christmas ghosts on Jan. 1st. No Christmas is ever the same even if the same people are present. Lego's sprawled upon the table among some chex mix crumbs by an anxious 9 year old boy. Complaints of 6 year old girl that all of the old people were eating too much food as they sat with their slices of pie and coffee. It was time to open presents, and old people take too long. Chats with teenagers on music, videos, clothes, while a frog-duck puppet quacked in the background. Grown adults playing catch with a child's new toy, while trash bags of torn gift paper sat around.

It was Christmas on the New Year. What happened to the New Year holiday I don't know. I got to thinking what if how we spend the New Year was a prelude to what the upcoming year would be? If a person was laughing on New Year's would that mean they would have a year of laugher? Would it be the same if they had been crying? It made me giggle to think of all those people who fix big pots of beans for good luck on the upcoming year. I know what they would be doing the rest of the year (grin).

Was I still behind and living in 2007 finishing up a holiday? Would that mean that the rest of the year I would be behind and be playing catch up? I do have one or two things left over from 2007 to attend to yet. A small part of me wondered though, if I rang in the New Year celebrating Christmas, would that mean that every day would seem like Christmas in the New Year? For all my griping and complaining about the holiday, that didn't seem like such a bad idea after all...

Merry Christmas...Happy New Year....and everything in between...