Friday, February 29, 2008

Living with teens


How did it come to this? Been there - done that - doing it again. Now there are two teenage boys on the premises. This means - the fridge is always empty, there is never any hot water for a shower and the food bill has risen faster than the gas prices.


I find stinky sneakers smelling up the foyer. I have tossed them outside on several occasions. Clean towels are a precious commodity. I can usually find the wet towels stuffed in the hamper with the lid closed. Piles of soiled clothes live in the corner of their bedroom. I try not to enter the bedroom - it's just too scary. And sometimes there are strangers in there.


Money - seems to be a necessity. I need, I need, I need. I'm broke.


The phone rings non-stop as does the doorbell with frequent visitors.


Then we have the drama with the girlfriends. The animated discussions in the front yard for all the neighbors to witness is most humiliating.


I'm hoping this adventure will keep me young. We can all hope.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Feeling His Oats




'Feeling his oats', not quite sure where this term began but I'm thinking it means - feeling better - or strutting your stuff. Ron is feeling much better and so am I. He looked to be on his deathbed and has recovered to almost his old self. We walked this morning and he actually kept up with ME. Normally it's a race to the finish line with me huffing and puffing and him dragging me. Obviously I am not the pack leader - I TRY.




This morning he was walking around with his toy in the mouth ready to play. Such a good sign since he has barely moved in four days. I threw his toy a few times and he went running across the yard to retrieve it. I didn't want to stress him out too much. So he is still wandering the house with the toy in his mouth waiting to play.




The vet did test that were inconclusive. More test to come and more money to spend. But you love your pets and you do what you gotta do.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Ron Recovering




Ron had his vets visit - wasn't that fun. They requested we use THEIR muzzle. He was not a happy camper. There were four attendants and the vet and yet they still could not contain him. Should have given him a feel good pill before he went in. He just does not like the vets and do I blame him? No. You see them coming with that thermometer and you know where it's going. He has gone from 100 pounds down to 80. That is a significant weight loss - perhaps he could get a commercial on TV. If only I could drop 20 pounds in a week.




So, $164.00 dollars later the vet is clueless. They don't know what his problem is besides the fact that his behavior is atrocious. We try - bought Cesar Milan's book, walk him everyday, try in vain to become the pack leader - we have failed. He is who he is.




Today Ron seems much perkier and he is eating his milk bones and he especially likes his new (expensive - very expensive) dog food. Perhaps he was depressed after all? Right now he seems on the road to recovery. The vets will call today with his test results. I wonder how much that will set us back. I think I should purchase pet insurance.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Ronster Man




The big guy is sick. He had his rabies shot and within several days acted depressed. Can dogs be depressed? Actually it seemed to be more than his shot - we had company and he was sent to the garage to live till the company left. That's when the depression started - or so it seemed.




This guy will eat anything including broccoli and he just stopped eating. He moped around like he was on his deathbed. He layed outside beneath the tree like Ferdinand the bull ( a great story).




Today he is a little perkier and has a vet visit this afternoon. He won't be happy with that. Will have to get the muzzle out again. I'm sure his energy level will spike when he sees the vet.




I miss his abundant energy and his short attention span. It's sad to see him so despondent.

Monday, February 25, 2008

9 to 5

I love the movie 'Office Space'. I thought it was a joke. I am rethinking my theory. Work in general pretty much sucks but one has to pay the bills, get satisfaction from their job and live the American dream. Work ethics are high priority - at least I thought that. I have seen the light or some strange glow.

How is it that a teenager can get a job at an electronics store at the mall and make almost as much as me? He calls in sick on a regular basis. Positve aspect - he does call in. But he calls in when he wants to chill or go out with his friends - not sick.

He gets to work at least one minute before his shift. His response, "I start work at ten, why get there at 9:45?" Okay, I'm lost here.

His female co-workers (including his 19 year old manager) hit on him. I know he's a handsome dude but come on. On week four he gets a promotion and a pay raise. Okay, I'm lost here.

I am so glad he has a job and it helps that he has money to burn and that he does very well. He's always broke and lives from payday to payday. He has all the latest gadgets and hip clothes. He eats out all the time.

Life seems to have taken a path that I am unfamiliar with. That fork in the road and I took the one less traveled - apparently I should have taken the other path. At the end of the movie 'Office Space', the character is living it up on some tropical island. Where is the justice? I'm off to work.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Pull Up Your Pants


That's what they are saying in Baldwin, Florida. If you walk down the streets in Baldwin showing off your plaid boxer's expect a $500.00 fine or community service. 'We ain't goina take it no more'.

I don't care to see any ones underclothing or that swaying walk to keep the pants from completely falling around the knees. It looks so uncomfortable. My suggestion is for everyone over 21 years of age ( this includes you Gramma) to walk around showing their behinds with pants hanging to their ankles. I bet the kids will soon drop this fashion faux.

I admire the town of Baldwin for trying to keep their town in line. I would rather see this addressed in the schools. If Baldwin makes loose pants a crime what will be next? My lime green Crocs? And why is it that men can strut the beaches topless but women cannot? I'm not saying I want to it's just that I don't have that right and the men do. How is that fair?

Who said life is fair? I've heard that statement a million times. I wonder how a town can make such a law about clothing? I completely understand their thoughts on the low rider pants but to take it to the next level is puzzling. A well endowed female can wear a skimpy tank top - bra less and that is okay. You see more there than staring at plaid boxers. Let's make a dress code for the entire town.

Well, Baldwin, the next time I drive through your town I will not stop - but I will look for offenders. Remember if you are driving north to Baldwin on 301 do travel the speed limit. Look for signs that say - Speed Trap. I wonder what the sign will say in the town of Baldwin?

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Silence







The company has left and all is quiet. The cat has come out of her hiding place, the dog has been allowed to return to the house and the dust is settling. Piles of wet towels, linen and dirty dishes stare silently at me. The sofa sleeper and the cots have been put away along with extra pillows, blankets and sleeping bags.






We are left with memories and photographs.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Fast Times in Florida


I live in Florida - love visitors and expect visitors to trickle in. The means to the end - hopefully they eventually leave. We have two extra permanent bodies now living (?) in our household. (?) Taking up space, eating everything that's not growing green, texting 24/7, sleeping till noon and wanting their clothes washed. Yep, two teens.


This week we have company from the north. Let's do the math 2 adults, 3 kids, 2 teens me and hubby. All this in a two bedroom two bath house. I have placed -take-a-number by the bathroom doors. The kitchen is like a cafeteria - eating standing up is not an option - it's reality. We have four chairs at the table.


My hallway now serves as a shoe store with many varieties, sizes, colors and models. The scooters, helmets and basketball rest dangerously against the closet doors. Soda cans, juice boxes and empty wrappers overflow from the trash can. The T.V. is permanently fixed on the Cartoon channel. My slow and predictable routine is buried under a load of mismatched socks, shorts, wet bathing suits and hoodies.


This too shall pass and when the vaction is over 5 will head back home and I will have fun with the teens. Yes, you do have a curfew. No do not sneak in through the bedroom window. You smoke you die. No girls in the room with a closed door. I don't care what you did at your house!!!
Oh - just the luxury of spending alone time in the bathroom again. Watching the news on t.v. And quiet minus the loud music from the boys' room. Company is truly wonderful. spring break is just a few weeks away and I think the sign in my front yard says - Stay Here.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

How To Clean an Oven

The joys of oven cleaning - gone bad. I now understand why people buy self-cleaning ovens. But the kicker is you need to turn them on. No mess, no fuss, no kitchen fires. I do believe I need to adjust my house cleaning schedule.

Company was soon to arrive so I did a pre spring clean of the house. I washed the curtains, cleaned the microwave (it's white inside) and dusted all of the picture frames. I tackled the kitchen like one of those Merry Maids, giggling and happy running around dancing with a dustmop.

I opened the oven door - oh my! I tried to remember when the old girl was last cleaned? HHHmmmmm maybe never? Something or someone lived on the bottom of my oven. It was big and crusty and dark. I flipped on the CLEAN switch and locked tight the oven door. Soon - very soon smoke started billowing from the cracks. I pulled out the fans and set them up and opened the kitchen window. I'll just blow all that nasty smoke right outside.

Smoke filled the kitchen and I searched for more fans and opened all the doors. Smoke was pouring out the kitchen window - OMG what if someone calls the fire department? That's when I noticed the flames. Swirling behind the glass oven door. Must be the gunk on the bottom of the oven. A little burn off - not a problem. The flames grew more intense and crept out the bottom of the oven and out the burners. Panic sets in. I've set the oven on fire. What to do? What to do?

I'm wondering why none of the smoke alarms have not gone off. Oh, yeah they need batteries. I turn off the CLEAN button on the oven and turn the fans on high. Oh the stink. People are congregating on my front lawn. I yell that everything is under control. They disperse shaking their heads. Probably thinking the fool should clean her oven a regular basis - and I will - when I get a new self-cleaning oven. Seems like the flames did major damage to the inside of the oven and the elements.

Hubby says, "If you really wanted a new store, why didn't you just buy one? You didn't need to set this one on fire."

Monday, February 18, 2008

Coffee with grounds

I normally do not make the morning coffee - I just push the little button and wait a few and reap the rewards. My sweetiekins is in charge of coffee making. For many reasons he doesn't trust me to produce the precious brew. So I don't feel so bad over this mornings disaster. If he wanted a good cup of coffee he should have fixed it last nite - this is his normal procedure and he is a creature of habit.

A few ( a lot) of grounds in the coffee makes it rather interesting and unique. Instead of reading tea leaves we can read coffee grounds. If I had a sifter perhaps I could sift out the grounds and he would never know, But then, there are the telltale grounds left on the counter, the floor and a trail that leads to the living room. He might suspect some wrong doing. I could clean it up - hide the evidence.

It's his job to prepare the morning coffee. NOT MINE. He will have to suffer. He could make a fresh pot but I used all the beans up. It's either a trip to the store or the coffee shop down the road.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Curfew


My front door squeaks. It's the kind of wake you up from a deep sleep squeak. I love that squeak. Do I fix it by adding a little WD40 to it? No - no way!!! It's almost like a silent but noisy alarm. My bedroom is to the rear of the house and when that door is open in the front of the house I'm outta bed in a flash or just relieved that the kid is home before his curfew.


Even if you open the door very slowly - it still squeaks. I love it. So the teenager has not been able to sneak in without us finding out. Alas - he has found out about the silent noisy alarm. He has tried opening it fast and very very slow but in an instant there I am questioning his coming in past curfew.


We have discussed the curfew and he doesn't like it - too bad - so sad!!! We have extended it for an hour but that's the limit. So he has found a way to bypass the silent noisy alarm. He has taken to sneaking in his bedroom window. He leaves it open a crack and then slips in from the outside. No squeaky door to contend with.


So i've fixed his wagon. Tonight if he tries to sneak in past curfew his window will be locked. Then, it's back to the squeaky front door. It's so tuff being a teenager.

Friday, February 15, 2008

No Flowers For Me




Valentine's day has come and gone with no flowers or boxes of chocolates for me. And that is fine with me. Cut flowers are beautiful but only last a few days - it seems like such a waste. A potfull of flowers always seems like a better choice - they last forever. Unless of course you don't water them! And OH - those chocolates - had enough of them at work yesterday.




So my special Valentine made me a handmade card. LOVED IT. More memories there than Hallmark ever produced. On the front of the card were two beautiful doves. The text beneath the doves said -'My true love sent me Two turtle doves'. There was a big X throught he word dove? Inside the card was a picture of The Turtles album - 'It Ain't Me Babe.' And another photograph of a turtle. And a quote from William Shakespeare - "O, how I love thee! How I dote on thee! I felt special but a little confused. The cheap smuck!!!




Then he said, "You don't get it do you?"




I replied, "It's very nice."




Then he takes my hand and walks me over to the once empty turtle tank and I see two tiny babies basking under the heat lamp. Two very small yellow bellies. Now our turtle farm has grown to five. So much better than flowers or chocolates and they will most likely outlive both of us. As of now they are nameless but the mind is thinking about something love inspired. Maybe Romeo & Juliet?




The family these two babies will join (outside) in the spring. Big Al - a Red Eared Slider, Cooter - a Florida Cooter and Cracker a Cumberland Slider.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Beyond Pain

So, the side of my face is a bit swollen and very warm to the touch. The pain intensifies with every movement I make. My dental appointment is tomorrow - thank you - thank you. Popping pills seems to have no effect on the source of the pain. I know I have waited way too LONG. My bad!!!

I dislike (pretty much hate) going to the dentist. I have major panic attacks just thinking about it. Recently I have found if I take my IPOD and turn the volume way up - it helps. I procrastinate and then pay the price.

Perhaps it would be better to have false teeth - after all George Washington had a set of wooden chompers. I wonder if he ever got splinters? I wonder if they were laminated like the new floors that shine so bright? You just snap them together for a perfect fit.

The pain is too intense to think and write clearly so off to lala land I go.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

The Lost Sock Mystery

It's happened to me for many years and I am just mystified. It happens occasionally and rather quickly. There does not seem to be any rhyme or reason to the madness. It just happens. It crosses no gender borders, color schemes or monetary impact. It's not predictable it can happen once a week or once every six months - but it DOES happen.

Yesterday, I put soiled laundry in the washing machine. I wasn't in a hurry and I wasn't multi-tasking. I was paying absolute attention to my task. It wasn't my usual laundry day and I was in a cleaning mood. So I popped in a load of whites. Then I tossed the whole shabang into the dryer with two summer fresh scent dryer sheets.

Off to work I went leaving the clothes tumbling alone in the dryer. I know you are not supposed to leave the dryer on and leave the house - so I am guilty of breaking that rule. Who makes up these rules anyways?

After dinner - made by my live in chef I pulled the laundry from the dryer placed it lovingly into my round blue plastic laundry basket. I dumped the entire pile on my couch and watched the evening news while folding our summer fresh smelling clothes.

HHMMM. One pair of tan ribbed socks went into the dryer and just ONE sock - just ONE sock came out! I returned to the laundry room and searched the area. I involved the dog in the futile search. I looked under, over, inside, outside and upside down. Dr. Seuss save me. There was no mate for the lonely sock. I checked the other laundry baskets - none-nada. Like a flash flood in the Arizona desert - nothing.

I tore apart the couch looking under the cushions and behind the curtains. The sock mate was nowhere. Misery loves company? This was by far my favorite sock and this misshap has happened many times before. Where do they go? And what do they do? Alone in the world without a mate. And never a ransome note and never - ever - found again.

Is there a spirit world out there where they converge and stretch? Are they gathered in darkness and sent to Site 51? Are they space lifted by one legged ghosts? Are they abducted by alien beings? Does the IRS keep them for back taxes? Are they sucked into the dryer motor? Is my mother-in-law trying to make me look like a bad homemaker? Is time travel an option for them? Is it global warning? These questions will haunt me for ever and ever.

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

The Tooth

There is nothing quite like a tooth ache. I despise going to the dentist - so I wait till it's usually too late. I wait till the pain is unbearable and then I call. I have this aversion to dentistry in general - one of those childhood nightmares.

Several years ago while on vacation (yes, it was a weekend) I had an abcess on one of my teeth. Every emergency we seem to have happens on a weekend. Why is that? The procedure always cost more if you can find a medical person available. Or you suffer great distress for the entire weekend. Even when our animals get sick or hurt - it's on a weekend or after hours. The cost of an emergency visit is unbelievable.

OMG. I feel like I am to that point again. I hate to call but I know I have to call. I been popping the pills but it doesn't even touch the pain.

I wonder how people coped with this awful hurt and pain before they had access to dentistry? Did the blacksmith really pull out the culprit with his pliers? Ouch! The longer I ignore the problem the bigger it will become. I will try to shut my childhood traumas in the closet and face the demons.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Message on a Bottle


I prowl the beaches looking for trash. I photograph the treasures and them pick them up. If one person would pick up one piece of trash per day soon our beaches would be trash free. Can you imagine if every person picked up an entire bagful of trash. WOW. Imagine no one littering our great land - wouldn't that be wonderful.
When I walk the dog I carry two bags - one for his deposits and the other for found objects. I DO NOT pick up after other dogs SORRY!!!! I have stepped in it many times. Thank you lazy butt pet owners.
Aspire to inspire before you expire.

Beauty


Nicholas


I met this young man a few years ago - such a handsome dude with the biggest laugh and smile. Always happy, bright and ready to cheer up some one else. He was just NICE, NICE, NICE!!! Problems come flying at him and he dodges, swerves and takes the punches but always comes back standing tall on two feet - arms outstretched to help some one else. Mr. Positive.


This is for you Nicholas - an inspriation to all of us. Some place in my archives I have photos of you but it would take weeks to find them so I dedicate to you a new image I have created just for you. It's bright and cheery just like you. Keep on doing what you do we are all there for you.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Coffee Time Again

What goes better with a beautiful morning? A fresh cup of coffee. The sun has just began its ascent to brighten the gorgeous day. It was a little brisk so I donned my fleece L.L. Bean robe that has been with me for years. I venture outside with coffee in hand and find a secluded place to sit and sip. A few birds serenade me with a soft sound. Dew is absent from the tropical painted comfortable adirondack chairs. They are comfy and sort of mold to your backside and the wide arms make a perfect table to hold the cup of brew.

All is right with this morning and my world. Peace, quiet a little melody in the air and a strong cup of coffee with cream. A perfect time to meditate renew my thoughts before the work day begins. Just the smell of the coffee sends my taste buds swirling like a rogue wave crashing onto the beach in the late summer. I hear the dull thud of the dog door - then back to natures silence. Perhaps he will not find me.

His heavy footsteps thump across the wooden deck. His panting lets me know the toy is in his mouth and he is ready for play. I suck down a hot gulp of fresh coffee - with cream. I set my coffee on the large arm of the brightly painted yellow adirondack chair. I look away from him. He drops the toy right by my left foot. He pants and slobbers on my exposed right foot. Still, I pay him no attention.

Another swig of the warm lucious brew. His panting grows frantic and he grabs the toy and dances around. Anything for attention is his motto. I reach out to take his toy. His movement was instant and deadly. The tail a dangerous weapon wacks my coffee cup and sends it flying, shattering on the wooden deck. I sit placidly in my comfy adirondack chair and feel the hot coffee drip from my fleece L.L. Bean robe all the way down to my bare toes. He just stands in front of me with the stupid toy clutched in his mouth wagging that dangerous tail with a gleam in his eye. I yell obsenities at him and the wag of the tail escalates. He doesn't have a clue.

I stand and hold the soggy robe away from my body and walk back in the house. I look over my shoulder and his long pink tongue is licking up the fresh hot coffee with cream. His tail wags excessively. My day begins.

Friday, February 8, 2008

Morning Coffee

It's not an easy straight shot to get my morning cup of coffee. It's more like a meandering maze of defiance to obtain the caffeine connection. As soon as my feet hit the hardwood floors the little dog needs to pee. She's getting old and has a difficult time making it throught the night. If she doesn't get out before first light she targets the nearest rug. We don't have many rugs left in the house.

In the dark I walk - tripping on shoes and discarded garmets - over to the bedroom door and walk out into the brisk cold morning. She doesn't budge. She refuses to go out the back door in the backyard, where neighbors can't see me standing in my pink short nightie. She walks slowly toward the front door. I have to grab my robe off the hook - all this still in the dark. And we exit the front door so she can pee in the front yard. WHY? She heads directly under the street light so I can do the runway model walk for the neighbors. But then how many neighbors are up at 5 AM?

We head back inside - slowly. I remove the robe and try to hang it on the hook - still in the dark. I enter the kitchen and old pusss is standing guard on the counter by her empty food bowl. She lets out a howl and gently slaps my bare arm. Remember I left the robe on the hook. She wants to be fed NOW! In the dark I search the cupboards for her cat food and give her the standard 1/4 of a cup of lowfat cat food. She's as fat as a pig and we have put her on a diet. She's not happy.

I head for the coffee pot feeling the rush. I climb over the gate that seperates the big dog from the little dog and big boy barks for his morning treat. I step back over the kitchen gate and search the cupboards for his bag of bones. Still in total darkness. The little mutt paces frantically around my feet. That's the signal she has to do her number two. I head back to the bedroom grab the robe off the hook - still in the dark. Out the front door once again because she has 'the spot' where she will only do the discharge. She takes her time sniffing out the perfect location. The deed gets done.

We trot slowly back inside and I hang up my robe on the hook - still in the dark. I go back to the kitchen climb over the gate that keeps the two dogs apart and reach my hand out to press the ON button. It makes a nice soft little click sound and I sigh in relief.

I've forgotten to take my blood pressure pill- hhmmm - why do I have high blood pressure? A walk back to the bedroom encased in darkness to find the pill bottle. I touch the menagerie of bottles and containers on my dresser - searching for the pill bottle. I find the one - pop off the cap and drop the entire contents on the floor. I drop to my hands and knees and search for the lost capsules before the dog finds any. I find three and hope there are no more rolling about. I pop a pill and reach for my water bottle always sitting on my nighstand. Empty.

I hurry into the bathroom - still in the dark and search blindly for a cup. No such luck. I resort to desperate measures and stick my head under the faucet. I amaze myself with all this activity and not an ounce of caffeine running through my system. I trip over my robe that never made it to the wall hook.

The sun begins to make her appearance - I wish she would come earlier or the animals would wait till later. I climb back over that darn gate and walk with the full pot of java back to the kitchen in the early morning light. I pour myself a cup of the sweet smelling brew and smile. I open the refrigerator door and reach inside for the creamer. NADA - NONE. Life is cruel.

Thursday, February 7, 2008

OLA

I watch the mystery of teenage love and life unfold or collapse right in front of me. I feel like an alien who has been dropped from another planet and I am learning strange and new practices. Things make little or no sense to me at all. Teen priorities are somewhat different than mine. Their thought process is steam rolling over the plains and only stops to send a text message. Converstaions are half baked, wars are fought and won, friendships are flattered and flattened, love is without consequences or connections. The fingers move at sonic speed while the lips give service to minor problems. Instant gratification is a necessity.

Was this me so many years ago? Looking back I saw myself as very mature with my head on the correct way and my goals listed in a sensible order. Life was slower then. Now, I feel like i'm on a roller coaster ride and I get violently ill on fast rides. I remember a few years ago getting sick from riding the merry-go-round. Today my life spins like a Maytag washer. Silent but fast.

I'm hoping they find their way, reach their goals and surpass their desires and on occasion CLEAN their room. I see the glint of surprise and happiness shine through at unexpected times.

I would like to share a quote I picked up somewhere along the trail - the author is unknown to me but I thank him/her for these words.

Aspire to inspire before you expire.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

I've been feeling a bit down lately - probably the winter blues and all the changes going on in my life right now. Feeling -Oh Woe Is Me! This morning I read a blog from one of my favorite bloggers - http://sarcasticmom.com/?p=223

She is dealing with depression and a nasty illness. She has a reason to be down. So I take my own sad feelings and tossed them in the shredder. That is not exactly true I burnt up the shredder several years ago and have never replaced it. I just did a pretend shred of negative feelings. And then the car situation rose its ugly head to remind me it doesn't want to be around much longer. When the old girl goes we will be down to one vehicle. Another car payment YUCK!!! I have my health (somewhat) so the heck with the old rust bucket car. The old man can ride his bike to work. LOL!!!

I need to look at all the positve aspects in my life right now. Like the grocery bill tripling since the kid moved back in and then his needs (ALWAYS invloving MONEY). He does make life exciting and makes us liven up our sedentry lifestyle.

My issues are minor compared to so many others. 'Don't worry be happy'. I should buy that song and play it non-stop for days on end.
Things I have to be thankful for ````````````
1. a loving spouse
2. a great grandson
3. a bike to ride to work
4. a dog that pees on the rug (throw rugs can be washed in a minute)
5. a dog that sheds excessively ( we keep the vacuum cleaner onsite)
6. a cat that bites
7. three turtles that love me totally
8. koi that can't wait for me to feed them
9. a job
10. and a blog to keep me sane

and so many more GREAT things but work calls so off I go~~~~~~

Peace - Sarcastic mom

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Mr. Bojangles




Whenever I watch him skate this tune gets inside my head.~~~~~~
Nitty Gritty Dirt Band ~~~~~~
KNEW A MAN BOJANGLES AND HE'D DANCE FOR YOU IN WORN OUT SHOES WITH SILVER HAIR A RAGGED SHIRT AND BAGGY PANTS THE OLD SOFT SHOE HE JUMPED SO HIGH HE JUMPED SO HIGH THEN HE LIGHTLY TOUCHED DOWN
MISTER BOJANGLES MISTER BOJANGLES MISTER BOJANGES DANCE
I MET HIM IN A CELL IN NEW ORLEANS
I WAS DOWN AND OUT
HE LOOKED AT ME TO BE THE EYES OF AGE
AS HE SPOKE RIGHT OUT
HE TALKED OF LIFE TALKED OF LIFE
HE LAUGHED SLAPPED HIS LEG A STEP
HE SAID HIS NAME BOJANAGLES
THEN HE DANCED A LICK
ACROSS THE CELL
HE GRABBED HIS PANTS FOR A BETTER STANCE
THEN HE JUMPED SO HIGH
HE CLICKED HIS HEELS
THEN HE LET GO A LAUGH
LET GO A LAUGH
SHOOK BACK HIS CLOTHES ALL AROUND
HE DANCED FOR THOSE AT MINSTREL SHOWS
AND COUNTRY FAIRS
THROUGHOUT THE SOUTH
HE SPOKE WITH TEARS OF FIFTEEN YEARS
HOW HIS DOG AND HIM
TRAVELED ABOUT
THIS DOG UP AND DIED
HE UP AND DIED
AND AFTER TWENTY YEARS HE STILL GRIEVED
HE SAID I DANCE NOW AT EVERY CHANCE IN HONKY TONKS
FOR DRINKS AND TIPS BUT MOST THE TIME I SPEND
BEHIND THESE COUNTRY BARS
FOR I DRINKS A BIT
HE SHOOK HIS HEAD AND AS HE SHOOK HIS HEAD
I HEARD SOMEONE ASK PLEASE

Monday, February 4, 2008

Stupor Bowl

Monday is a work day that comes right after Sunday - all the time. Some things never change! So why?? did I let someone talk me into going to a sports bar to eat, drink watch the game and drink some more. I was weaving on the way out the door. I had my desiganated driver. I alone am responsible for my head (it still aches), my 4 hours of sleep time (I need my sleep) and all that spicy edible finger food I stuffed in the pie hole (oh thank you for Zantac).

Right now I'm sitting bleary eyed and in a half-stupor typing away at this machine with the really bright screen that is causing me night blindness. I'm tired, cranky and still in a stupor from lack of my beauty sleep. I have posts to publish (should have been done this morning) but couldn't drag my weary body out of bed on time. My spell checker refuses to work - so accept the mistakes.

I am thankful the super bowl only comes once a year. Next year I will be better prepared and take the day off to sleep it off or practice some much needed self control and refuse those two for one drinks.

Who won?

Sunday, February 3, 2008

5AM. The click, click, click sound scraped across the hardwood floors, a sure sign that Maggie needed her morning relief. If I didn't act promptly there would be a puddle on the kitchen floor. She no longer barks when she wants out she just paces or runs into the doors and walls. Her mind once sharp and devious is now an empty void. She will turn 18 this summer and for a dog I believe that is an amazing feat. We put up with her mistakes, endless pacing and her forgotten memories because she is a part of the family and I love her dearly. Hubbies verdict is still out on that one but he does clean up after her. Our house has become throw rug city to catch the drips and drops.

Reluctantly, I dragged my weary body out of bed. Sunday morning my only day to sleep in and I have to walk the dog. I grabbed my robe and we trotted every so slowly to the front door. I always don the robe when I walk her out front - never know when one of those pesky neighbors is walking the streets. She walked aimlessly around sniffing at the mailbox (still standing after Blanca's excursion) and the car tires. She did nothing. So we walked to the back yard and I plopped my still not awake mode body into my tropical colored Adirondack chair. The pink one is my favorite.

I sat there waiting for Maggie to do her business as she wandered aimlessly around the deck in search for the lawn. After a bit she found the grass and fell face first into it. The legs don't bend like when she was a puppy. In the morning they are stiff and disagreeable. She sat down under the Queen Palm like Fernando the Bull and smelled the roses. The roses for some unknown reason (lack of water) have all dried up and died. She sat there quiet and contented.

I looked at the sky and observed its odd shade of gray/pink. I heard birds chirping by the fence. And that was all I heard - no traffic sounds, no fire whistles, no horns beeping or loud music. I sat in the tropical pink Adirondack chair and Maggie sat on the grass just enjoying the peacefulness of a Sunday morning. What a great way to start the day. Thank you Maggie perhaps your mind is not total mush.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Fractured Fairy Tales

Once upon a time in the state of Florida everyone could keep their drivers license. You could be 90 something, with cataracts, two hearing aids a stroke victim survivor (left side still not movable) tremors and a menagerie of other obvious ailments BUT you can still drive that car. That car that is the size of a small bus. When you drive by we can barely see the top of your head over the steering wheel. Perhaps that is the reason red lights don't impress you - you can't see them. The neighbors pick up their mail at the post office due to mailbox upkeep. You can only buy so many replacement mailboxes per year. Norberto's tree on the corner has stopped a few cars and has the paint marks to prove it. Two years ago my metal basket ball hoop on the left of the driveway became one of your victims. I have black marks on my white garage door - I have left them there as a reminder of your driving skills. Large deep crevices in Joe's yard from the fire hydrant incident stir scar his yard. Sally's new trash cans brighten the culdesac on trash day. Mine are wheel-less thank you Blanca.

Yesterday was a little over the top - actually i'd say it was over the sidewalk and (almost) into my living room. I'm relaxing after a hard day at the office reading the paper drinking sweet tea when BAM. Amazing there you are for a neighborly visit right in my front yard a stones throw from my picture window on top of my newly planted yellow rose bush. No need to ring the doorbell. The crunch of tires on my paver stones has alerted me that you have stopped by. Stopped by in that big blue buick. How you traveled from your house to my house across a busy street in that big blue buick without getting hurt is amazing. I lost a rose bush, several brick pavers, a concrete birdbath, my newly planted sod and a few herbs in plastic pots.

I will mention the incident to your son and hope he can convince you to STAY off the roads and out of everyones yards. Please give up your license because the state of Florida will never ask you to turn it in. You don't belong on the road on the sidewalk or in my front yard. Take a bus a taxi or ask me to drive you. Please!!!

And they all lived happily everafter - when Blanca stopped driving at 95.

Friday, February 1, 2008

The Cat in the Hat is Fat

I read an article about fat cats - obsese cats. I own a fat cat, she's very fat - she's obese. She has this little tiny head and this humungous body. She reminds me of Marlon Brando. The article stated that it is unhealthy for cats to be fat -DUH. It's unhealthy for all of us to be fat.

They specified - NO Grazing. She's not a cow she's a cat. Apparently grazing means keeping the cats food bowl filled to the brim. When we plan to be gone for the weekend I use an automatic feeder that holds approximately a full bag of catfood. She generally eats the whole thing. We have left her alone for far too many weekends.

I have tried to cut back and feed her only twice a day but that makes her a very unhappy camper cat. She turns into a demon. She howls and swats at you when you walk by her. In the evening she jumps up in bed and bites your feet. She's evil. She demands her food and doesn't give up until she is satisfied. It's difficult to live with an unhappy camper cat. Try it and you will understand.

I switched her over to a lowfat catfood and that did not go over well. At first she refused to eat any of it and kept us terrorized for days. She finally ate some but lets us know (verbally) how displeased she was. We keep her food on the kitchen counter (some may see this as gross but we have two dogs) and she blocks the entry into the kitchen. She stands guard by the empty dish and smacks us with her sharp,sharp claws when we try to pass.

FEED ME. Life is easier when we cater to her wishes. I have told her many times that being fat will bring her to an early death but she ignores my advice. Let me rethink this problem - fat cat - early death....hhhhmmmm. I'm off to the pet store to buy a LARGE bag of cat food. I will fill her automatic feeder to the brim.