Sal Mo and Nella

Spinach was one of my favorite veggies till the spinach scare. And peanuts and peanut butter were my all time staple. I haven't had peanut butter in my cupboards for months. Someplace, somewhere I read that pistacio nuts were good for health reasons that I have forgotten but know they are good for something. So lately I have been on a pisitacio kick. Well, scratch pistacios off my kist of healthy foods. I have never been much of a red meat eater so I don't have to worry about the mad cow disease. I have been leaning toward the healthy foods and look where that sent me. I've heard about what the workers do in the lettuce fields so I only purchase packaged lettuce at triple the price. At least I can give these leaves a proper washing. The tomatoes are another issue where workers are paid less than a penny a bucket.

What do I eat now? I tried all the supposedly 'good' stuff but find out they are all contaminated.

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Business Bust

I'm a little confused (more so than normal) disenchanted (my bubble is bursting) and sad. My new business venture may not be profitable. I had devised my new business venture after years of camping in the rain. I know that every time I go camping (tent camping) it rains. We can have a drought for months and the very weekend I put up that tent the downpour begins.
So I thought I could start a rain making business and travel from town to town, set up my tent and the rain would come. I would have charged big bucks to perform this ritual. I would receive gigantic bonus's just like all the AIG suits. A term I learned while working for a large company. I also learned never to call one of the important guys 'the suits'. Unfortunately this will not be my lifestyle and the plans for this news business have been tucked away in the back recesses of my mind.
Today on the local news weather report they are calling for a 30% chance of rain and I will not be going camping. Someone does not want my business venture to succeed and it is not the government but that cruel friend Mother Nature.

Need a Snake Charmer

Yesterday the garage door was left open. It was not I that left it open. I have left it open in the past but never for very long. I will not point fingers at the individual that left it open. There are three of us that live in this lovely home with a two car garage with no room for a bicycle let alone a car. One individual that lives here is on vacation in another state and I who live here did not leave it open. Do the math.
So wonderful hubby is working frantically y in the garage around his workbench. I ask him, "What's up?" and he replies, "I'm trying to get this snake out of the garage."
Okay back inside the house for me. We have black racers (biguns) that visit occasionally but they usually stay on the patio or in the lanai. The garage is just way too close to my living space to feel comfortable.
Do we know if Mr. Black Racer has left the premises? No. Did I sleep last night? No. I had nightmares about him sneaking through he dog door sliding right past the sleeping dog and slip beneath my closed bedroom door. I then had a vision of him slinking up into my bed and sucking out all of my blood. Wait that would be a vampire. Whatever!
I vow to never set foot in the garage again. How the laundry will get done is beyond me. I am terrified of snakes and now there is one lurking in my home.

These boots were made for walking

Who in their right state of mind goes hiking in the Withlacoochee State Forest wearing flip flops? Yep, that'd be me. Sometimes my mind is on another planet and doesn't compute what's right and what's so totally bizarre. I've been camping and hiking many times in the woods and mountains and I know all about the critters that slink along the forest floor.

I just think my head must have been on sideways when off I went trekking into the wilds of Florida dressed in my favorite flip-flops. Not only was it not safe but my feet are encased in bog dirt. Trying to remove the grime with the belt sander is not an easy task.

The rain gods must be crazy

In the past few months it has rained once. Once!! My brown grass has shriveled up and run off with the last wind storm. My flowers are just a faded memory. The water police make daily rounds to insure no one is watering their now brown dead lawns.
My umbrella and rain gear have been packed away and I cannot remember where? I have asked the rain god for nourishment in the past but not this weekend.
Today as I searched the Florida skies for white puffy clouds all I saw was darkness.
We have been house bound with illness, company and house work for what seems like forever. Last weekend we planned a camping trip. Oh yeah!!!!! Let the rains begin.
Something to expect just like when the sun rises in the East - when we go camping it rains.

Quizno's Torpedo - sinks

Last night the refrigerator was near empty and I didn't feel like fixing anything for dinner. It was a rough week at work and my insomnia was rearing its ugly head once again. What to do for dinner? Fast or go without? No way!
Lately I have seen these advertisements on television for Quizno's new 'torpedo' sub sandwich. They look so 'cute'. Yes, I do think the little sub looked 'cute'. My mind works in strange ways. In the mail I received a flyer and a coupon for this new 'cute' looking sub. It lay untouched on the kitchen counter for at least a week. And then when I finally decide to splurge and purchase this 'cute' little torpedo sub the coupon is MIA.
I complained to hubby about my missing coupons and he had no response. Someone who cannot be named retrieved the coupons out of the trash. Hint, hint, it 'werenot' me.
So off we go to have a quick fix at Quizno's and try out their 'cute' little 'torpedo' sub. Woe is me as disappointment washes over me. It was 'cute' almost too 'cute' to devour. But, I did just that and after it was devoured I had wondered what I ate. The meat or lack thereof was sliced like tracing paper. I'm sure you have seen how thin and transparent tracing paper is. The torpedo was kind of long and the meat had difficulty covering the bun. A lot of difficulty. I did have lots of lettuce and mustard. The taste was like eating the cardboard box that houses my animal crackers. Actually the box that held my 'cute' little animal crackers was tastier than the torpedo. Cardboard has lots of fiber - if you are wondering.
So 'cute' is not always the best meal. Live and learn. Don't be suckered into those ads that portray foods as 'cute'. Then perhaps it is me and my quirky mind that perceives food as 'cute'.

Taking Chances

I just sent in what I am hoping is my last entry from for Publishers Clearing House Sweepstakes. I have sent in so many I have lost count. Stamps are going up and it is sometimes a hard decision to keep mailing out these entry forms. But since I have few monetary vices I feel it's okay to splurge on stamps. If I purchased a lottery ticket I would be out a buck and my chances of winning the lottery are about the same.
Yesterday I received yet another entry form from PCS and this was for an upgrade to my prize. The last forms I received from them were a little on the 'try to make me feel guilty and buy stuff from them'. My purpose apparently does not line up with theirs. So many people want to separate me from my money. I want to keep some of my money and spend the the rest - on shoes.

Fleamarket - Curbside

My cul-de-sac looks like an outdoor flea market. It's a good thing today is trash day although I'm not sure they will pick up most of this junk.
My neighbors to the south have a dining room table, chairs and a desk sitting by their curb. Larry, the Mayor of the cul-de-sac has a big screen television by his curb. Perhaps he set it out their for everyone to watch the game? They have regular meetings usually standing in someones driveway discussing world politics. Perhaps their meeting includes watching Syracuse win again.
Blanca has an extremely long hose on her curbside. The landscape guy has boxes of stuff packaged up so nicely. George has a rug rolled up on his curb. The funeral guy has a metal cart by his curb. That's a scary thought as to what he used it for? Tony has a cute little computer desk and I had thoughts of walking next door (after dark) and retrieving it. And we have a huge bookcase with all the shelves parked half on the curb and half on the sidewalk.
One could furnish a home by collecting all the junk left on the curb in my cul-de-sac. It must be a sign of spring cleaning. In New York once a year we had 'big trash' day where the town would come by and pick up anything including cars. Today my cul-de-sac looks like an outdoor flea market or 'big trash ' day in New York. Is this a form of recycling? Is this spring cleaning? Is this really just cleaning out the overstuffed garage so a car will fit inside?

Imperfect Order

Hubby and I have been having this discussion, issue, family chat or whatever one calls a family dispute. You know (I hate that phrase 'you know') about the dishwasher - no less. We are not into solving world peace or the economy blight but our discussion includes - how to place silverware in the dishwasher. To be more specific - does one place the sharp knives up or down.
I am a well documented klutz. It's an art that I take seriously and perform it with absolutely no grace. If I had the lead role of the dancing swan I would surely trip and break a bone without even trying, fall off the edge of the stage or have the chandelier fall on me. That's me. Sharp objects should be kept away from me at all costs.
Hubby knows my talents but still insists that the sharp knives go pointy side up inside the dishwasher. He says when they are placed in the down position (not as lethal to me) they cut into the plastic utensil container. So what! Who cares? This is my life and body parts I am worrying about. Sharp objects and me do not see eye to eye. Once I removed the entire part of a finger with garden shears and they weren't even sharp. It hurt! Another time I shut my hand in the side gate and lost another portion of my skin and cells. It hurt! The list goes on and on and I have the scars to prove my inability to do normal tasks. I try to stay away from sharp objects.
So I have poked myself numerous times placing the knifes in the upright position in the dishwasher. I have decided not to follow his rules with pointy side facing my fingers. He whines and complains about how I am damaging the appliance. It's a piece of plastic - almost worthless. But me and my body parts are fragile and when injured quite expensive.
So I buckled the other day and followed his rule of lethal weapons pointing upward. My third finger on the right hand is now sporting a very large band aid to cover a 2 inch slice on my finger. It hurts! It is ironic that the injured finger is the middle finger and I show the injured digit to hubby at least once an hour.

Turn the Car Around

I was reading an e-mail from a friend about the surprise birthday bash he was hosting for his wife Virginia. It said in BIG letters that this was a secret and keep it a secret. Okay, perhaps I am not good at keeping secrets but we all have our faults. I reread the e-mail to imprint the time and date inside my pea brain.
Just at that very second, instant, nanosecond my cell phone rings. I am so thrilled with myself that I have all my names and contact information in my cell phone and it pops right up when my phone chimes. No, not a ringer a lovely oriental chime. I see the name Virginia on my screen. WHAT? Virginia doesn't have my new cell number. And why is she calling me at this very moment when I am reading the top secret e-mail from her hubby? It's a strange world in which I reside. Or is it me that is strange living in a normal world? Not too sure anymore.
I then notice the area code and it's the state of Virginia. It's my sister and she is using her stand by cell phone, one that I do not have added to my family list. It is not the person Virginia it's the state Virginia. Turn the car around or at least turn on the ignition.

Myth of Sisyphus

I have always thought that a 'bonus' was awarded for achievements. Hard work rolled with extra effort and responsibility were all part of working toward that 'bonus'. Silly me. Some can run a company in the ground and cause undue complications for an entire country and then be rewarded with a bonus. Is this the new math? 1+1 - no longer equals 2.

AIG has a strong resemblance to The Myth of Sisyphus. Realization requires - revolt and that is what we need to accomnplish with this tragedy. I would like to take that rock push it up and over the hill and roll it down on all the masterminds that created the absurity, untruths and evil. Moral responsibility has floated off into the black hole of greed. Now we are compelled to perform the same meaningless task till the end of time. We will be pushing that rock with little success as all those at AIG will be basking in luxury with their bonus.

Tunnel Vision

Today is the day that the stitches come out. Trying hard not to be so vain and negative. It's just an arm with a crater carved out in the middle - could be worse.

Three things that I am thankful for.....

1. visit by family - always uplifting

2. watched the Discovery launch

3. walked the dogs at Starkey Park

Discovery Launch

Standing near the Gulf of Mexico capturing the Discovery lauch over the Atlantic Ocean. What an amazing sight.

Wash it and they will disappear

You put two perfectly good and dirty socks in the washing machine add your favorite detergent (on sale) and BAMM. One comes out at the end. How does this happen? Where does that one sock disappear? Is there a sock limbo? A sock depository? And why, oh why, is it always one of my favorite socks?

I have plenty of socks that are stretched out and have holes but they never seem to fade into the netherworld. It's always my favorite ones. Wahwahwah.

Is there a sock fairy and I may find new socks beneath my pillow? I have heard there was a tooth fairy but apparently she did not know my pillow address as she never paid me a visit. She did visit my children. Wait, that was me. There is no tooth fairy which leads me to believe there is no sock fairy and I will never-ever again see my beloved sock. I could buy new ones. I could remove the interior of my washing machine in search of the derelict sock but then that would invalidate the warranty. If the washing machine became dysfunctional during my search I could replace the old dull boring white machine with a bright red steam machine. The cute little washers that have that round glass door in front and sit up on a pedestal.

I guess I will just buy myself new socks. Certainly will be cheaper than rearranging the guts of the washing machine. I still wonder - where do they go?

Call Me Anytime

I had a few issues today with my cell phone. I tried to make a call from my 'selected friends' and an android voice came on and said, "Thank you for using Verizon Wireless." Strange as it may seem, I do not have Verizon Wireless. It then stated the number I had dialed was not a working number. Strange as it may seem it was hubby's number. I know for a fact that it is his number and it should be working. I call the Sprint customer service number and it flashes as not activated.
I have a couple of thoughts - 1. I forgot to pay the bill 2. Verizon bought Sprint and no one told me 3. My NEW phone was defective and I did not pay extra for the insurance so I am out of luck. 4. I am dreaming or have just came out of a deep sleep and have amnesia.
I called my sister who also has Sprint and the call went right through and she resides in a different state. I called several other people Sprint and non-Sprint customers and all the calls went through.
I dialed hubby's number again and the android spoke to me in her alien tongue and said to please dial a 1 before the number. I physically moved around trying to make a connection. I went outside sat in the car, walked down the road and stood on the picnic table. ??? I thought being higher would help. It did not!!!! At this point in time after numerous tries I gave up.
I stopped by the Sprint store to seek answers to my dilemma. Of course I had to wait and wait and wait. Such a busy place? The clerk said, "Oh it's just a glitch in the system."
Apparently that is the answer to so many problems. I wonder if I did not pay my bill and said, "Oh it's a glitch in the system." How fast would they turn my phone off. Quick-quick-quick!!!!

To spend or not to spend, that is the question?

I heard this confusing news blurb this morning on the television. Why I listen to this doom and gloom is beyond my common sense. Then, my common sense is not so common if I have any at all. "Whatever", is what the t-shirt states.
Some newsworthy person said, "We need to spend money to gain more jobs." So is spending a viable profession? If it is I want that job. SPEND, SPEND, SPEND. I would even work overtime for free. My first interview question would be, "How much money can I spend a day?" And then my thoughts would be where is this money coming from. Common sense goes under the rug.
Would someone or the government please explain to me how spending more money will create jobs? Is standing on the corner with the cardboard sign - "Homeless" a real job or just an illusion? How can this person spend more money? If you have no money to spend how can you spend more? I am so confused.
And how is all this spending more money creating new jobs? And where are these jobs being created? I am math challenged so my mind does not accept this strange concept. One station tells us to tighten our belts and clip coupons another says save money and invest and today I hear we need to spend.
Oh, the light bulb just went on (energy efficient light bulb) and I see the light. Wait that could be the sun rising in the West. Funny, I thought it rose in the East. Oh, it's the neighbor's headlights as he drives off to work. Pull t-shirt over my head - "Whatever". Back to the light bulb and my brain fart. The jobs that will be created for all that spending will be Bill Collectors and Bounty Hunters and more reality T.V.

Who Let The Dogs Out?

We had a superb dog walking plan or so I thought. We are responsible doggie owner/walkers and always pick up after our pup. Not like some that I will not mention but you know who you are. Even when you let him out at 3 AM I see.

We keep the big guy walking fast especially past those green-green lawns. There is one strange dude that stands on the sidewalk every evening when so many walk their dogs just waiting for someone to pee or do the two on his thick lush green carpet. We cross the street and stay away from his domain to be safe. He yelled at us once when the big guy dropped a bomb on the easement even though we picked it up.

So, we keep him on a tight leash so he doesn't get any ideas. When we get to the fourth corner of our neighborhood we ease up on the leash. The stop sign is his first favorite. Then the bench 20 feet away gets sprayed upon. The really, really good thing about the corner and the bench is there is this great big old county trash can. We have trained the big guy to drop his bombs in close proximity of the bench. There is nothing worse than carry a bag of smelly dog doo for a mile and a half.

He does his business by the bench and hubby (his job :)) picks up the remains and tosses them in the great big old county trash can. The one that sits on Regency Parkway right at the bus stop. Oh boy would I hate to wait for the bus there. Sometimes the trash is only emptied once a week.

For some unknown reason big boy is straying way too far from the bench to complete his business. Our options are to walk all the way back to the trash can or carry the mess all the way home. It seems like big boy has his own agenda and schedule and will not be swayed. If he keeps it up he will get no more walks.

Countryman Legacy

Like a leaf falling from a tree branch hitting the ground and settling back into earth. The sun in the morning bursting across the horizon and in the evening a spectacular painting in the western sky. Wish upon a star, follow your dreams search for the end of the rainbow.

You have reached that place where you need to be.

Dr. Zeus

Inked

Barbie is in the news again just before her 50th birthday. It seems that Trailer Trash Barbie (yes, there was one) is getting tattooed. She comes with her own tattoo's and young girls can tattoo their Barbie. Maybe Barbie can have a 'tramp stamp' placed on her lower regions.
Give the girl a break and let her have her tattoo. She's had every other career in her lifetime and at 50 her skin is not sagging so what harm can a tattoo do? Some say it will harm the young girls that care for Barbie. Warp them and make them feel unwanted, used and anorexic. We've already exposed children to so much junk what difference does a doll with outrageous proportions and tattoos make on society?
I had a Barbie and I still have self esteem and so do both of my girls. It's a doll not a gun. We sell temporary tattoo's for young children all the time. At fairs we promote face painting. Leave Barbie alone! Stop picking on her. Criticise a slinky.

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Happy Birthday Barbie

Barbie has hit the big five 0. And she looks fabulous. Still has her man, Ken and he still looks pretty good. I have heard that Barbie and Ken tied the knot but the depends on who you ask. My Barbie married her long time lover Ken and had many children. She always retained her girlish or perhaps goolish figure.
After all these years her breasts are still perky, pointy and extremely large. Her pencil size waist no hips (even after all those kids) and mile long legs without varicose veins are still shapely like a 20 year old. She has never,ever had botox or a face lift. And those to die for lashes surrounding her bright beady eyes. Her hair style has changed throughout the years according to her profession or lack of a profession. My Barbie stayed home occasionally and wore a checkered apron.
My Barbie was also physically active: although her activities were always done in high heeled shoes. She never had a bicycle or a car until my oldest daughter was old enough to appreciate and enjoy a Barbie. And then she lived in a huge motor home. She wore boots and fringed jackets and was stuffed naked under the back seat of a red Vega station wagon.
When my younger daughter came along Barbie did not fare so well. She received many, many bad haircuts from an unprofessional hair stylist. The scissors my daughter used were not very sharp. She was beheaded, stuck with pins and tattooed with black permanent markers. My Little Pony fared better than Barbie. Strange how life is - now my younger daughter is a Barbie version herself. I wonder if she remembers how she desecrated the ever so popular Barbie?
Happy Birthday Barbie - you have survived and still live on as no other out of portion doll ever has. You need your own red carpet a tiara and a place in the Guiness book of record.

Mucus Management

I've just hit day 8 of my couch/congestion/sore throat/bronchial mucus/cold and I feel like a zombie gone mad. I've tried just about every over-the-counter cure all I can find. I have tried my own concoctions and that of neighbors. I haven't slept all night in days. My nose is plugged and the smell of morning coffee still eludes me. My eyes are puffy and red but they match the end of my red raw nose. And I'm even using Puffs tissues. My mucus is disgusting and clumpy. My cough grates on my nerves like fingers running down a chalkboard. Funny thing is whiteboards have replaced the chalkboards.
I am no better off now after taking all of this stuff. It's been a week of hell. Isn't that the timeline - a week? Trying desperately to ward off a doctors visit with my own brand of medicine. Gullibility. Perhaps I should have taken the plunge and seen my doctor.
My pocketbook is a lot slimmer. Those over-the -counter meds do little to eradicate those nasty cold germs. It would have been cheaper to see my doctor.
Thinking about drug companies I'm sure they are not in a recession. Do-it-yourself medications are pricey and ineffective. Check out the pharmaceutical area in any store and it goes on for miles and miles. Cures for colds, backaches and so many other maladies. Big bucks are in the pockets of the manufacture but I'm still sick. Why do I buy all this STUFF? Why don't I get better at the 7 day mark?
It's good to know that I and so many others keep the drug companies in the profit zone.

Soul Searching

Spring is in the air - almost. There was a freeze warning last night and this is March. Hello - Mother Nature have you forsaken us Floridians? We don't like the cold.

Yesterday I noticed the delicate pink blossoms on my peach tree. If I check it out this morning will they be crumpled and frozen? Wait, I'm not stepping outside till the sun comes up and warms the earth and my soul. I have to do that thing called 'work' so checking on my buds will have to wait. Wait and see, wait and see, the story of my life lately.

Still battling with the constant lung infections and the downhill slide of my health. Trying, trying, trying to have a positive outlook - like my budding blossoms on my peach tree.

Repeat after me, "This too shall pass." But when? Tonight I shall walk outside and see if Mother Nature wacked my precious peach blossoms and my soul.