For the past several weeks I have been wallowing in the deep dark pit of despair. Woe is me. Sometimes that just happens and you need to go with the flow. I'm over that black abyss and am climbing as fast as I can up those slippery slopes to reach the sunlight.
It rained really, really, really hard last night. We desperately need the rain - now we are getting out of that deep dark pit of drought.
Utah was my savior in the bleak times. Surrounded every day by beauty and new experiences. Awesome! I am now a confirmed ATV rider. Done that - had fun - checked it off my list and probably won't do that again. I have so many escapades checked off my list but then I keep adding new ones. I climbed a mile and a half straight up into the heavens to view Delicate Arch. Absolutely worth every painful breath, muscle ache and fear of heights. Check that off my list of things to do before I die. I might even attempt that journey again.
Utah inspired me with her beauty and quiet. Now, I shall hike the Appalachian trail - no not Argentina on Father's Day. My bags are packed I'm ready to go - not leaving on a jet plane but do know when I'll be back again.
This time the over sized suitcase is packed to its bursting point with no airline restrictions cuz that big boy is going in the back of the truck. My life is rather like Balanced Rock - looking like it will tip over with a small puff of wind but in reality planted firmly in the bedrock. And I can see life and all of her wonders from Panorama Point.
Life is like riding a bicycle. When you fall off - cry with humiliation then get back on. Ride with the winds of passion as your tattered sails.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Jon & Kate Plus 8
Jon and Kate plus 8 minus 2 divided by 4 equals = cancelled show, battered egos, caustic accusations with reality banging at your back door. Who suffers? The children.
I have no sympathy or empathy for Jon and Kate. I have overwhelming sadness for the children.
Is this greed and the American Dream, exploitaion and degeneration? It's similar to winning the lottery. One cannot comprehend the pressures that comes with instant fame and fortune so they go over the edge into oblivian - that dark abyss of selfishness.
It's not all about me-me-me. Others are involved.
Still if given the oportunity I too would go for the money. $75,000.00 an episode is not hard to accept. Strange and bizarre world in which we live.
The merry go round has ceased to play the melody. The roller coaster has jumped the track. And the twirling teacups have agravated my motion sickness.
I have no sympathy or empathy for Jon and Kate. I have overwhelming sadness for the children.
Is this greed and the American Dream, exploitaion and degeneration? It's similar to winning the lottery. One cannot comprehend the pressures that comes with instant fame and fortune so they go over the edge into oblivian - that dark abyss of selfishness.
It's not all about me-me-me. Others are involved.
Still if given the oportunity I too would go for the money. $75,000.00 an episode is not hard to accept. Strange and bizarre world in which we live.
The merry go round has ceased to play the melody. The roller coaster has jumped the track. And the twirling teacups have agravated my motion sickness.
In the name of Progress
We painted the coping of our pool a cool blue, actually hubby painted it he's good at that sort of thing - but I did suggest the color. It's a baby blue-sky blue- robins egg blue - very tropical and goes with our decor. Our decor being freebies from friends and tables bought on clearance but who is keeping track. In my opinion it's eclectic-tropical-country.
So the coping looks wonderful but is in sad contrast to the decking. So the decking got painted by hubby and once again I picked out the color. I'm good at that sort of thing.
Then real quick like it became dirty and disgusting looking. That sky blue now looked like a hurricane sky. So we repainted it again, actually hubby painted and I supervised, I'm good at that. And at my suggestion we put a clear sealer over all the painted surfaces, Hubby did a wonderful job. He's good at that sort of stuff. The area was all bright and shiny and slippery.
I let everyone know to be careful because the decking and the coping was very-very slippery and I didn't want anyone falling and getting hurt. So the first casualty was - guess who? Me. I went slip-sliding away right over the edge into the pool. It was kind of okay because I did have on my bathing suit and my intent was to take a dip just not so fast and hard. I hit my knee on the edge of the pool and it hurt like hull.
Still is aching today but I will survive. I just get so annoyed with myself when I become the victim. Hopefully all have learned a lesson at my expense. And the pool does look lovely.
So the coping looks wonderful but is in sad contrast to the decking. So the decking got painted by hubby and once again I picked out the color. I'm good at that sort of thing.
Then real quick like it became dirty and disgusting looking. That sky blue now looked like a hurricane sky. So we repainted it again, actually hubby painted and I supervised, I'm good at that. And at my suggestion we put a clear sealer over all the painted surfaces, Hubby did a wonderful job. He's good at that sort of stuff. The area was all bright and shiny and slippery.
I let everyone know to be careful because the decking and the coping was very-very slippery and I didn't want anyone falling and getting hurt. So the first casualty was - guess who? Me. I went slip-sliding away right over the edge into the pool. It was kind of okay because I did have on my bathing suit and my intent was to take a dip just not so fast and hard. I hit my knee on the edge of the pool and it hurt like hull.
Still is aching today but I will survive. I just get so annoyed with myself when I become the victim. Hopefully all have learned a lesson at my expense. And the pool does look lovely.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
5 Ways To Go GREEN
For whatever reason you are still stuck with your gas guzzling, non-hybrid regular car, truck, minivan or SUV - do not fret - you can still go GREEN. It just takes a little more creativity.
5 Ways to go GREEN with your old clunker.
1. Instead of driving your children to school - walk with them or ride bikes. Not only are you helping to save the environment but you are getting healthy and bonding with those little darlings.
2. Make one trip per day instead of three or four.
3. Walk to places if at all possible.
4. Ride the bus.
5.Car pool with neighbors to the grocery store or the mall.
5 - Easy steps to stay GREEN with a vehicle that does not conform with today's dire economy and global awareness.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Old Dog New Tricks
They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Are men so like dogs? I purchased one of those dog clickers once for the dog and it didn't seem to work so I tried it on the spouse. Guess what? It ignited his attention. He's not as young as he used to be but the clicker was a learning experience. So maybe perhaps - just a possibility you can teach an old dog new tricks and that philosophy can be applied to spouses. Don't let them know you're treating them like a dog.
I read this dating article about animal tricks and men. How you can use the same animals tricks (learning techniques) on humans. http://dating.personals.yahoo.com/singles/relationships/24307/dating-advice-6-ways-to-train-your-boyfriend;_ylc=X3oDMTN1anJtaW43BF9TAzI3MTYxNDkEX3MDMjE0MjI5NzEzNARrAzYgV2F5cyB0byBUcmFpbiBZb3VyIEJveWZyaWVuZARzZWMDZnBfdG9kYXkEc2xrA2RhdGluZy1hZHZpY2UtNi13YXlzLXRvLXRyYWluLXlvdXItYm95ZnJpZW5kBHp6A2FiYw--
Not that I'm dating - way past that jungle but it should be applicable to spouses. Right. Shall I try it? Shall we all try it? I'm going to search for that dog clicker I purchased and give it another try. Or perhaps I could try the Dog Whisperer way and straighten him out. Actually the old guy doesn't need any straightening out - he's fine the way he is. Maybe I'll place a bone beneath his pillow or his favorite toy the red heart.
Happy Father's Day sweetie!!!!!
XOX
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Green with Envy
I'm always on the lookout for a bargain and the clearance rack gets me every time. Last December I was in dire need of a new suitcase. My old suitcases - black - like 99 % of the rest of the traveling world was disintegrating. Why is that? To fix this potential suitcase lookalike issue I used yellow duct tape and wrapped it around my suitcases. They stuck out like redneck luggage as they spun around on that baggage carousel. They did need to be replaced as all the plastic inside broke into tiny little pieces. Every time I opened the suitcase little black plastic pieces fell out.
Time to get a new suitcase and one that wasn't black like 99 % of the rest of frequent fliers. It was after the holidays and the sales were fantastic. I found a lovely (large) green suitcase. 75% off...wow.
I paid for that baby and went right out the door to go home and toss out that old relic with the yellow duct tape. The big green machine has sat silently in my closet until the summer trip. Delta airlines charges $15.00 per bag. What can you do? So I packed the new large green traveling bag and then tried to lift her. Couldn't.
I do a little research on the Delta Airline site and find out about baggage weight restrictions. 50 pounds. And then right there in bold print are the size regulations. What? Suitcases need to conform to a specific size? I got out the trusty measuring tape and - too big. My suitcase exceeded the regulation size by one inch. I was hoping the clerks were not too good in math calculations.
I then proceeded to take the hulking heavy mass to the grocery store to weigh the beast. She weighed in at 48 pounds. Whew - what a relief. But that does mean NOTHING comes back from the trip in my new green carpetbagger.
So, did the store know that the suitcase did not meet the size standards set by the airlines? Was that why the large green suitcase was 75% off?
Time to get a new suitcase and one that wasn't black like 99 % of the rest of frequent fliers. It was after the holidays and the sales were fantastic. I found a lovely (large) green suitcase. 75% off...wow.
I paid for that baby and went right out the door to go home and toss out that old relic with the yellow duct tape. The big green machine has sat silently in my closet until the summer trip. Delta airlines charges $15.00 per bag. What can you do? So I packed the new large green traveling bag and then tried to lift her. Couldn't.
I do a little research on the Delta Airline site and find out about baggage weight restrictions. 50 pounds. And then right there in bold print are the size regulations. What? Suitcases need to conform to a specific size? I got out the trusty measuring tape and - too big. My suitcase exceeded the regulation size by one inch. I was hoping the clerks were not too good in math calculations.
I then proceeded to take the hulking heavy mass to the grocery store to weigh the beast. She weighed in at 48 pounds. Whew - what a relief. But that does mean NOTHING comes back from the trip in my new green carpetbagger.
So, did the store know that the suitcase did not meet the size standards set by the airlines? Was that why the large green suitcase was 75% off?
Labels:
baggae carousels,
delta airlines,
packing,
suitcases
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Is it Cotton?
Being the Florida girl that I am I was taken aback - all the way back in my very small plane seat when I saw the mountains leaping up into the blue sky. Plane seats are getting smaller or I am getting bigger. Most likely a little of both. It was a long uncomfortable ride from Florida to Utah and then I saw the mountains as the plane began descending into Salt Lake City.
The mountains were massive and dark except for the funny looking white stuff covering the tops. I haven't witnesses that white powdery stuff since I left the north in my dust many years ago. I've been to Utah before 'in the summer' and never saw the powdered sugar. So, this sight thrilled me and sent me over the edge of my very small compact uncomfortable plane seat. Not too far to go off the plane seat because you are basically nose to back of the seat in front of you.
The journey begins with a little of the white stuff, actually it seems like a lot of white stuff to spice up our adventure. I'm sure I can hike through that cold white stuff in my Florida flip-flops.
Enough of the white stuff tale it's time to hit the bottom slopes far away from the white stuff. I did pack a very thin jacket. Arches here we come. YEHAW!!!!!
The mountains were massive and dark except for the funny looking white stuff covering the tops. I haven't witnesses that white powdery stuff since I left the north in my dust many years ago. I've been to Utah before 'in the summer' and never saw the powdered sugar. So, this sight thrilled me and sent me over the edge of my very small compact uncomfortable plane seat. Not too far to go off the plane seat because you are basically nose to back of the seat in front of you.
The journey begins with a little of the white stuff, actually it seems like a lot of white stuff to spice up our adventure. I'm sure I can hike through that cold white stuff in my Florida flip-flops.
Enough of the white stuff tale it's time to hit the bottom slopes far away from the white stuff. I did pack a very thin jacket. Arches here we come. YEHAW!!!!!
Labels:
flipflops,
floriida,
snow covered mountains,
utah state parks
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
The Long Hot Summer
Around the neighborhood the ‘Long Hot Summer’ seems to have come early with ‘The Heat Of The Night.’ Actually it cools off at night but the phenomenon is taking place during the day. Must be that tempers are flaring, tension is bubbling over and stress is slithering along the fence rails.
In this little quiet cul-de-sac something or someone (I believe) is tampering with our drinking water or our emotions. The long hot summer has officially not even started. Perhaps the downward spiral of the economy is affecting our relationships. Right now I can count (on my fingers) the neighbors who are succumbing to the long hot summer in the heat of the night that is really during the day. The number 6 comes to mind including our household.
I have been trying to run through the house shutting all doors and windows so the dirty laundry is not aired for public views. Sometimes it’s too late and the words seep out across the ‘hood’. That would be ‘neighborhood.’ So last night the house catty-corner to ours which is usually quiet erupted with verbal assaults. I tried to listen but couldn’t get close enough to the fence without being seen. Not that I really want to know. Well maybe. Maybe this is mass hysteria taking over. They hear us in our LOUD discussion with the kid so they jump on the band wagon and want their piece of the pie.
Today, they are going at it again. Presumably the dirty laundry was not completed last night. I wonder where that phrase derived from. Hanging out the dirty laundry for all to see. I mean you hang out clean laundry not dirty laundry. Not that we are allowed to have clothes lines in our neighborhood. It’s upscale - no outside clotheslines.
If the whole hood started their Long Hot Summer episodes it may become a reality television show. We have the 6 households with loud voices, one with a little yappy dog, one with two big yappy dogs, our yappy dog, the drunk who drives on the sidewalk, the drummer who beats to his own drum add in a 90 year old that still drives her car (stay out of her way) the grandfather raising his grandchildren, the landscaper and his illegally parked trucks and his roaming bees, the couple going through a divorce ( not a pretty sight) and those renters around the corner we could have a hit reality show. We could call it ‘In the heat of the long hot summer day.’
In this little quiet cul-de-sac something or someone (I believe) is tampering with our drinking water or our emotions. The long hot summer has officially not even started. Perhaps the downward spiral of the economy is affecting our relationships. Right now I can count (on my fingers) the neighbors who are succumbing to the long hot summer in the heat of the night that is really during the day. The number 6 comes to mind including our household.
I have been trying to run through the house shutting all doors and windows so the dirty laundry is not aired for public views. Sometimes it’s too late and the words seep out across the ‘hood’. That would be ‘neighborhood.’ So last night the house catty-corner to ours which is usually quiet erupted with verbal assaults. I tried to listen but couldn’t get close enough to the fence without being seen. Not that I really want to know. Well maybe. Maybe this is mass hysteria taking over. They hear us in our LOUD discussion with the kid so they jump on the band wagon and want their piece of the pie.
Today, they are going at it again. Presumably the dirty laundry was not completed last night. I wonder where that phrase derived from. Hanging out the dirty laundry for all to see. I mean you hang out clean laundry not dirty laundry. Not that we are allowed to have clothes lines in our neighborhood. It’s upscale - no outside clotheslines.
If the whole hood started their Long Hot Summer episodes it may become a reality television show. We have the 6 households with loud voices, one with a little yappy dog, one with two big yappy dogs, our yappy dog, the drunk who drives on the sidewalk, the drummer who beats to his own drum add in a 90 year old that still drives her car (stay out of her way) the grandfather raising his grandchildren, the landscaper and his illegally parked trucks and his roaming bees, the couple going through a divorce ( not a pretty sight) and those renters around the corner we could have a hit reality show. We could call it ‘In the heat of the long hot summer day.’
Monday, June 8, 2009
ILL Fated Romance
This is the story of Anole Grey and his paramour. I named him Anola Grey after the airplane Enola Grey and then I found out it's a name of a rock group. Whatever! Why I saw a connection between him and an airplane is beyond normal thoughts. Anyways, his paramour is nameless as I believe he has had more than one. Possibly any cutie that will swish her tail becomes his sought after lady in waiting.
Florida is home to gazillions of geckos, lizards and that Geiko creature on t.v. that talks and is such a handsome dude. I love the one where the CEO hands him a suit. The real name for these critters would be 'Anoles'. There you have it. So in my twisted thoughts I must have related Enola to Anole. The plane having something to do with the speed of these critters, how far they can jump and their perfect landings.
We have this huge screen lanai covering our pool where we spend many of our lazy days in the summer. Mating season for anoles. Things go on in this outside world that are quite amazing. One just needs to pull up a chair sit back and watch the living picture show. Off the subject - but - I found frog poop on the top of the lanai this morning. I haven't a clue as how to remove it. Will have to wait for rain storms.
So I've been watching Anole Grey inside the screened in lanai and his antics trying to pick up dudettes. He rears his little head, switches it up and down and this gross flap of yellow/red skin puffs out from his neck. The ladies seem to love this act of courtship.
Anole lives inside the screened lanai. I'm thinking he does this as it is easy hunting for bugs as they cannot escape. In a world outside of the screened in lanai they can just fly away. Hunting is better in the enclosure. When it comes to his love life things get kind of 'grey.'
His wanna be paramours are on the outside of the screened in lanai. So all of the fluffing up his throat skin comes to not a happy ending. Most frustrating to both parties I presume. Hence, the ill fated romance.
Florida is home to gazillions of geckos, lizards and that Geiko creature on t.v. that talks and is such a handsome dude. I love the one where the CEO hands him a suit. The real name for these critters would be 'Anoles'. There you have it. So in my twisted thoughts I must have related Enola to Anole. The plane having something to do with the speed of these critters, how far they can jump and their perfect landings.
We have this huge screen lanai covering our pool where we spend many of our lazy days in the summer. Mating season for anoles. Things go on in this outside world that are quite amazing. One just needs to pull up a chair sit back and watch the living picture show. Off the subject - but - I found frog poop on the top of the lanai this morning. I haven't a clue as how to remove it. Will have to wait for rain storms.
So I've been watching Anole Grey inside the screened in lanai and his antics trying to pick up dudettes. He rears his little head, switches it up and down and this gross flap of yellow/red skin puffs out from his neck. The ladies seem to love this act of courtship.
Anole lives inside the screened lanai. I'm thinking he does this as it is easy hunting for bugs as they cannot escape. In a world outside of the screened in lanai they can just fly away. Hunting is better in the enclosure. When it comes to his love life things get kind of 'grey.'
His wanna be paramours are on the outside of the screened in lanai. So all of the fluffing up his throat skin comes to not a happy ending. Most frustrating to both parties I presume. Hence, the ill fated romance.
Labels:
gecko,
geiko,
ill fated romance,
lizards,
pool enclosures,
screen lanai
Sunday, June 7, 2009
They Shoot Horses Don't They
Dead Horse Point State Park!
The name intrigues me – Dead Horse Point. Not that I like dead horses, dead animals or for that matter anything dead. I can’t even look at the dead spiders on the bottom of the pool. It just has that mystery and drama attached to the name and the way the phonetic sounds roll off the tongue.
My life is riveted with drama so apparently I am drawn to that spectrum and words roll off my tongue. It reminds me of hoof and mouth disease. I’m forever putting my foot in that place. There is never a dull or relaxing moment around here, always something erupting, breaking or a major catastrophe to be handled. So it’s time for me to take a vacation from all the dramatic stuff.
I’ve read about Dead Horse Point and have little red x’s marked on my map of Utah of the places I want to visit. Dead Horse Point State Park is first on my list. Not that I would ever admit to it or even say it or write it but – but – Dead Horse Point sounds more interesting than the Grand Canyon. Ooops. My bad. I know everyone and their brothers’- girlfriends’- sisters’- uncles’- neighbor twice removed wants to view the Grand Canyon but I would rather set my sights on Dead Horse Point. Several years ago I did travel to the north rim of the Grand Canyon so I’m off the hook on that one.
I remember when I toured the Valley of Fire. I wasn’t at all sure what to expect? Perhaps I would be forever trapped in the eternal fires of hell. Not even close to that bizarre thought. The Valley of Fire was awesome beyond my vocabulary. I have no words to describe the beauty I saw there. Photographs work really fantastic when I am at a loss for words.
I’ve done a wee bit of research on the Dead Horse Point expedition but mostly I want to be amazed and find out things by myself. I want to visit this Mecca with an open porous sponge mind. I want everything I see, touch and smell to be a new never before attempted experience. I want my imagination to run rampant among the plateaus and valleys. I don’t want my brain clogged with opinions of others. I want all my senses on overload. Not anxiety panic attack overload just in awe overload.
My bags are packed (not really) I’m ready to go. This catchy tune reminds me of a song. ‘All my bags are packed I’m ready to go. Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane’. The correlation here is John Denver, jet plane and dead. Oh no. Water down those thoughts. Change that obsessive thought to Peter, Paul and Mary.
More silly research and I found out one can download that song as a ring tone to your cell. When my phone rings I will just hum a few bars it’s much cheaper that way.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Dead Horse Point - I am ready to be thrilled.
The name intrigues me – Dead Horse Point. Not that I like dead horses, dead animals or for that matter anything dead. I can’t even look at the dead spiders on the bottom of the pool. It just has that mystery and drama attached to the name and the way the phonetic sounds roll off the tongue.
My life is riveted with drama so apparently I am drawn to that spectrum and words roll off my tongue. It reminds me of hoof and mouth disease. I’m forever putting my foot in that place. There is never a dull or relaxing moment around here, always something erupting, breaking or a major catastrophe to be handled. So it’s time for me to take a vacation from all the dramatic stuff.
I’ve read about Dead Horse Point and have little red x’s marked on my map of Utah of the places I want to visit. Dead Horse Point State Park is first on my list. Not that I would ever admit to it or even say it or write it but – but – Dead Horse Point sounds more interesting than the Grand Canyon. Ooops. My bad. I know everyone and their brothers’- girlfriends’- sisters’- uncles’- neighbor twice removed wants to view the Grand Canyon but I would rather set my sights on Dead Horse Point. Several years ago I did travel to the north rim of the Grand Canyon so I’m off the hook on that one.
I remember when I toured the Valley of Fire. I wasn’t at all sure what to expect? Perhaps I would be forever trapped in the eternal fires of hell. Not even close to that bizarre thought. The Valley of Fire was awesome beyond my vocabulary. I have no words to describe the beauty I saw there. Photographs work really fantastic when I am at a loss for words.
I’ve done a wee bit of research on the Dead Horse Point expedition but mostly I want to be amazed and find out things by myself. I want to visit this Mecca with an open porous sponge mind. I want everything I see, touch and smell to be a new never before attempted experience. I want my imagination to run rampant among the plateaus and valleys. I don’t want my brain clogged with opinions of others. I want all my senses on overload. Not anxiety panic attack overload just in awe overload.
My bags are packed (not really) I’m ready to go. This catchy tune reminds me of a song. ‘All my bags are packed I’m ready to go. Cause I’m leaving on a jet plane’. The correlation here is John Denver, jet plane and dead. Oh no. Water down those thoughts. Change that obsessive thought to Peter, Paul and Mary.
More silly research and I found out one can download that song as a ring tone to your cell. When my phone rings I will just hum a few bars it’s much cheaper that way.
So kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you'll wait for me
Hold me like you'll never let me go
Dead Horse Point - I am ready to be thrilled.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Fried Green Tomatoes
I planted this really cute little garden. Yes, gardens can be cute! It's mostly herbs for my chef spouse. He is always buying fresh herbs at the store and I complain because they are so expensive and he is wasteful. Not that it was his fault that the herbs got wasted. I need to make that perfectly clear!!! So my plan in this downtrodden economy/crisis was to plant a garden.
We have sage, oregano, parsley, chives, tarragon, basil and dill. I didn't want the herbs to feel lonely so I added peppers, squash and two tomato plants. Around the border of the garden I planted marigolds. And in between my cute little plants I have purple potato vines that add a touch of color and artistic creativity to my garden.
My pesticide free organic gardening tool is the flowers. I love marigolds and I have read that they keep the bugs away. Not too sure where I read that piece of information and not too sure it works. It does give the garden an artistic ambience.
My tomatoes blossomed profusely and the buds sprouted lots of green veggies. My Roma tomatoes were developing quite nice and were abundant on my little bush. I tied it gently to the fence because I did not want veggie rot consuming my precious little gems. One day I counted 6 little tomatoes and the very next day - nothing - gone. I had a tomato free zone.
No squashed little morsels lying on the ground or half eaten green tomatoes hanging from the vine. Just gone.
I wondered if there was a tomato thief in the neighborhood. My first suspect was the dog who has been eating the turtle food the minute my back is turned. He's like that consuming everything edible and at times not so edible. He must have a cast iron stomach. Why would he ever so gently remove all the tomatoes off my vines and not leave a mess or cause damage to my cute little garden.
I believe there are other forces working here among us to sabotage my gardening experience. They didn't even wait till they were red and ripe. So, perhaps the tomato theft is some type of cover-up and if any of the neighbors decide to have a community bar-b-que I will decline the offer to attend. I remember the movie - 'Fried Green Tomatoes'.
We have sage, oregano, parsley, chives, tarragon, basil and dill. I didn't want the herbs to feel lonely so I added peppers, squash and two tomato plants. Around the border of the garden I planted marigolds. And in between my cute little plants I have purple potato vines that add a touch of color and artistic creativity to my garden.
My pesticide free organic gardening tool is the flowers. I love marigolds and I have read that they keep the bugs away. Not too sure where I read that piece of information and not too sure it works. It does give the garden an artistic ambience.
My tomatoes blossomed profusely and the buds sprouted lots of green veggies. My Roma tomatoes were developing quite nice and were abundant on my little bush. I tied it gently to the fence because I did not want veggie rot consuming my precious little gems. One day I counted 6 little tomatoes and the very next day - nothing - gone. I had a tomato free zone.
No squashed little morsels lying on the ground or half eaten green tomatoes hanging from the vine. Just gone.
I wondered if there was a tomato thief in the neighborhood. My first suspect was the dog who has been eating the turtle food the minute my back is turned. He's like that consuming everything edible and at times not so edible. He must have a cast iron stomach. Why would he ever so gently remove all the tomatoes off my vines and not leave a mess or cause damage to my cute little garden.
I believe there are other forces working here among us to sabotage my gardening experience. They didn't even wait till they were red and ripe. So, perhaps the tomato theft is some type of cover-up and if any of the neighbors decide to have a community bar-b-que I will decline the offer to attend. I remember the movie - 'Fried Green Tomatoes'.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin
Yesterday, I was rad racing my way to work a little behind schedule and still in that morning mind fog. Lots of pressure, stress and unfortunate circumstances not so unlike Lemony Snickets issues were filling my fragmented thoughts.
For reason beyond my control I reached up with my right hand and touched my chin which at that precise moment reminded me of 'that' thinker statue. Or one of the three monkey see-monkey do - statues. Thinking so early in the morning causes me brain freezes.
At that moment in time the tips of my fingers felt it. Chin hair stubble and not the 5 o'clock shadow that is so hot looking today. Hot looking if you are a twenty-something male but not an over the hill Goddess of the Moon.
I looked at my hairy mass in the rear view mirror and screamed in horror. This caused the said vehicle to swerve a tiny little bit from the right hand side of Moon Lake Road. Definitely not my error in judgement - those pesky vehicles. I removed my hand from the offending HUGE mutant black hair mass protruding from my chin and was fraught with 'what to do'.
I'm too late to turn around and head back home to remove the said perpetrator from my chin. I yanked at the wiry black object with no success. Swerving again - I looked for those white cars with the blue lights on top. None were in sight - good for me.
I could walk around all day with my hand plastered to my chin and perhaps no one would notice. It's so difficult working one handed. I could stop at the grocery store and buy some tweezers and eradicate the little wiry sucker myself but I forgot my purse. It's that morning mind fog issue and running late - it'll get you every time. Brain freeze begins to un-thaw and I remember my drivers license is in the purse.
I look around for more of those suspicious white cars with the blue lights on top. The brain freeze has completely un-thawed and is now fast approaching and is now nearing the meltdown. How long has this inch long mutant black wiry appendage been protruding from my chin? It certainly did not pop out overnight. Who knows it could have been protruding for eons for all the fashion statement police to see and whisper about behind my back. This is more worser than falling off that bar stool before drinking.
I'll huff and I'll puff (asthma) and be out of breathe for the remainder of the day still obsessing over that mutant chin hair.
For reason beyond my control I reached up with my right hand and touched my chin which at that precise moment reminded me of 'that' thinker statue. Or one of the three monkey see-monkey do - statues. Thinking so early in the morning causes me brain freezes.
At that moment in time the tips of my fingers felt it. Chin hair stubble and not the 5 o'clock shadow that is so hot looking today. Hot looking if you are a twenty-something male but not an over the hill Goddess of the Moon.
I looked at my hairy mass in the rear view mirror and screamed in horror. This caused the said vehicle to swerve a tiny little bit from the right hand side of Moon Lake Road. Definitely not my error in judgement - those pesky vehicles. I removed my hand from the offending HUGE mutant black hair mass protruding from my chin and was fraught with 'what to do'.
I'm too late to turn around and head back home to remove the said perpetrator from my chin. I yanked at the wiry black object with no success. Swerving again - I looked for those white cars with the blue lights on top. None were in sight - good for me.
I could walk around all day with my hand plastered to my chin and perhaps no one would notice. It's so difficult working one handed. I could stop at the grocery store and buy some tweezers and eradicate the little wiry sucker myself but I forgot my purse. It's that morning mind fog issue and running late - it'll get you every time. Brain freeze begins to un-thaw and I remember my drivers license is in the purse.
I look around for more of those suspicious white cars with the blue lights on top. The brain freeze has completely un-thawed and is now fast approaching and is now nearing the meltdown. How long has this inch long mutant black wiry appendage been protruding from my chin? It certainly did not pop out overnight. Who knows it could have been protruding for eons for all the fashion statement police to see and whisper about behind my back. This is more worser than falling off that bar stool before drinking.
I'll huff and I'll puff (asthma) and be out of breathe for the remainder of the day still obsessing over that mutant chin hair.
Labels:
brain freezes,
chin hair,
hair removal,
rad racing
Thursday, June 4, 2009
How To Make A Grand Entrance
My intentions were to make a list of 10 ways to make a grand entrance in a public place in front of friends, strangers and the world. I'm much-more-better at rambling incoherently and being a safety hazard to myself. I've read that making list on blogs gets attention, improves your stats and is more reader friendly. Tomorrow I shall work on lists. Today I will ramble and let the wind carry my thoughts.
I went to this wonderful (free food) party at the local Applebees. Smiles, hellos and hugs were rampant. I sashayed over to the table where I spotted some friends. More smiles, hellos and hugs - for real this time. I squeezed in to the tight spot right next to a former co-worker. "Were in a tight spot", a phrase by George Clooney from the movie -'Oh Brother Where Art Though'. Strange that Art was hosting this party.
It all happened so fast but it lasted so long. Nice wooden bar stools with red leather cushioned seats. I must add slippery red leather seats and strong wooden legs. Thank goodness the floor was carpeted.
I stepped right up to that empty wooden read leathered seat bar stool to assume the position. The red leathered seat was like a greased pig because my bottom side slid off that baby faster than a speeding bullet. Smack - right on that carpeted floor. My legs grotesquely tangled through the rungs of that wooden bar stool with my purse sitting precariously on top of my head. Quiet throughout the restaurant.
I reached up and grabbed the second rung of the bar stool with my face as red as the seat cushion on the bar stool. I removed the purse now posing as a hat atop my head. My new pink cell phone went ice skating across the carpeted floor and landed two tables down. Oh please - someone do not step on my cell phone because of my cheapness I did not take out replacement insurance on the fancy new phone.
I struggled for a little composure as I raised my battered body from the carpeted floor. I pulled my skirt down and tugged hopelessly at my blouse. Pretending this was a grand entrance I stood for all the world to see with as much dignity as humanly possible and once again tried to plunk my bottom on that red leather seated bar stool. Some kind soul passed my unscathed cell phone to my table - thankfully without comment.
As if this were just another day in my life I sat with back straight (hurting ) and nonchalantly placed my elbows on the table and squeezed my hands together to stop the trembling. Trembling from humiliation. I made no eye contact with fellow party participants. A few asked if I had already had a few. I laughed. My elbow hurt. Pain shot down my arm dislocating my smile.
The waitress eyed me with a deep dark suspicion and asked about my well being. "I'm fine, I'll have a frozen Margarita." She sent me that look again - as if I'd already had too much to drink. Party talk took over and my embarrassment eased a little.
The farewell party came to an end with more smiles, wishes and hugs. I walked off with my head held high and my dignity partially restored. You know those mats placed by the entrances with one corner slightly turned up a tiny little bit. They should not be there.
I went to this wonderful (free food) party at the local Applebees. Smiles, hellos and hugs were rampant. I sashayed over to the table where I spotted some friends. More smiles, hellos and hugs - for real this time. I squeezed in to the tight spot right next to a former co-worker. "Were in a tight spot", a phrase by George Clooney from the movie -'Oh Brother Where Art Though'. Strange that Art was hosting this party.
It all happened so fast but it lasted so long. Nice wooden bar stools with red leather cushioned seats. I must add slippery red leather seats and strong wooden legs. Thank goodness the floor was carpeted.
I stepped right up to that empty wooden read leathered seat bar stool to assume the position. The red leathered seat was like a greased pig because my bottom side slid off that baby faster than a speeding bullet. Smack - right on that carpeted floor. My legs grotesquely tangled through the rungs of that wooden bar stool with my purse sitting precariously on top of my head. Quiet throughout the restaurant.
I reached up and grabbed the second rung of the bar stool with my face as red as the seat cushion on the bar stool. I removed the purse now posing as a hat atop my head. My new pink cell phone went ice skating across the carpeted floor and landed two tables down. Oh please - someone do not step on my cell phone because of my cheapness I did not take out replacement insurance on the fancy new phone.
I struggled for a little composure as I raised my battered body from the carpeted floor. I pulled my skirt down and tugged hopelessly at my blouse. Pretending this was a grand entrance I stood for all the world to see with as much dignity as humanly possible and once again tried to plunk my bottom on that red leather seated bar stool. Some kind soul passed my unscathed cell phone to my table - thankfully without comment.
As if this were just another day in my life I sat with back straight (hurting ) and nonchalantly placed my elbows on the table and squeezed my hands together to stop the trembling. Trembling from humiliation. I made no eye contact with fellow party participants. A few asked if I had already had a few. I laughed. My elbow hurt. Pain shot down my arm dislocating my smile.
The waitress eyed me with a deep dark suspicion and asked about my well being. "I'm fine, I'll have a frozen Margarita." She sent me that look again - as if I'd already had too much to drink. Party talk took over and my embarrassment eased a little.
The farewell party came to an end with more smiles, wishes and hugs. I walked off with my head held high and my dignity partially restored. You know those mats placed by the entrances with one corner slightly turned up a tiny little bit. They should not be there.
Labels:
apleebees,
bar stools,
embarrasing moments,
frozen margaritas
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
In Search Of
In search of whirled peas and endless adventures.
10 sure ways of finding the solution.
1. Laugh like your life depends upon it
2. Run like the wind is chasing you
3. Spin your dreams from passion
4. Befriend a friend and become a friend
5. Skip to your own drum beat
6. Walk in the rain without an umbrella
7. Connect with the earth and get dirty
8. Let your imagination explode
9. Whisper words of encouragement to yourself
10. Cry if your soul is pained
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