The Oil Spill

If I were the sailboat and you were the wind – oh, the trouble we’d be in.

If I were the lock and you were the key,

If I were the coffee and you were the cream,

If I were the salt and you were the pepper,

If I were the grass and you were the mower,

If I were the wallet and you were the money,

If I were the pen and you were the ink,

If I am the fish that swims in the sea and you are the oil – oh, the trouble we are in.

The Plot

I’m a rat. Not your ordinary sewer rat but the highly acclaimed citrus rat. We be handsome, creative and extremely large with a stupendous I.Q., except for readin, rightin and ritheramatic. My clan we watch each other’s backside and work together as a team. So, we’ve been living in this shed right next to the citrus orchard for about a year. Humans came by and placed one of those ‘have-a-heart-traps’ right by the couch we was chewing up. My intellect tells me they have no heart at all but plan our demise. That big slice of Swiss cheese inside is real tempting.

The gang needs a good strategy to get that piece of smelly cheese without getting captured. As much as I hate to admit it we need to connect with the sewer rats and devise a scheme. Their devious minds and unscrupulous plotting combined with our sleek buff bodies and charming ways will get us the golden goose at the end of the rainbow. Let me think about this situation. One large chunk of Swiss cheese divided by thirty or so rats. That’s more fingers and toes I have to count on. I’ll have to call a secret meeting with my guys and discuss how to run off with the cheese and not share with those lowly sewer rats.

We’ll start with a marvelous moon dance to keep our identity in escrow. Wait, we don’t want any of those crows pilfering our goods. We’ll just have to have a fantabulous night dancing by the light of the moon and entice those sewer rats inside that ‘have-a-heart-trap’ and slip away into the darkness with the cheese. In the morning we can open those shed doors exposing that heartless trap and make sounds to encourage the crows to investigate. Then, we will run off free as a bird just not an escrow bird and no one will know about our involvement.

Tank the Turtle

The Third Day Of My New Life

I've spent the entire day inside my burrow. I was quite comfortable and happy for a while anyways. My new owners keep digging me out of my burrow and looking at me in a strange way. They rub my shell and watch my little legs move like a roller coaster and then place me right back in my home with the glass walls. They place me right next to a food dish and then start talking real quietly.

Of course - me - being a box turtle that likes to burrow - I dig down and away I go. I hear their voices and they sound concerned about something. I think they don't understand why I keep hiding in my burrow. I don't know what to say to them so they feel better? I am getting a little annoyed about being snatched out of my burrow every couple of hours.

Tank the Turtle

The second day of my new life

I had a great sleep in my soft and snuggly burrow. I felt safe and secure and the night light my new humans left on for me gave me comfort. After such a rest full night in my new digs I came back to the surface. I know the humans were worried that I would suffocate so I needed to show them I am not a baby. And I am almost big enough to take care of myself. Not that I am all that big - not much bigger than the large silver coins that humans use. Instinct is inside me and they need to understand that about me. I have decided not to be a cry baby.
So, I peak out into the new world and there she is just standing there with a distressed look on her face. I popped my head through the nice soft black dirt and looked straight on at her. This big smile spread across her face and I think she was starting to be a cry baby herself. How strange is that? A human crying because they are happy. I wonder if she knows that I am happy without shedding any tears.
I’m feeling brave and adventurous so I crawl under the huge shell in my new home and turn my head and watch her. She spritzes me with a mist of water and it feels so refreshing. I notice fresh fruits and vegetables in my food dish. This is going to be a good gig. I still miss my old home but I am adjusting to this new environment.
Time for me to go back ‘down under’: It’s not that I don’t want to stay topside it’s just my comfort level is beneath the soil. The darkness eases a little and my eyes adjust to my small burrow and then amazingly out of the corner of my right eye – I spy a movement. I sniff the air. I’m a good smeller. As a matter of fact I know my dad is nearby just waiting for me to get big and join him. A long pinkish thing is wiggling into my burrow. Yehaw – it’s an earth worm. Breakfast buffet at Tiffany’s.

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Tank the Turtle

The first day of my new life

Today I went to a brand new home. I was just packed up and carted away. I was frightened. New and unfamiliar places can be scary. My shelter came along with me which made me feel a little secure. And of course my favorite foods were also with me. I love to eat and hide beneath my shelter. I traveled in this rectangular plastic box with my food and shelter. It was a short ride but I felt safe with some of my belongings.

I cried a little when I left my old home. I don’t want anyone to know that I cried because they may tease me and call me a ‘crybaby’. I know that I am a baby but I want to be treated like I am not a baby. After all I am a little bigger than a tiny baby. And I have been taken away from the only home I have ever known so I must be growing up.

I don’t even know why I had to leave my old home? Did I do something bad? Did they not want me anymore? What happened to my family? Will I ever see them again? It seems rather strange but on the ride to my new home I thought I heard my dad and even thought I could smell him. Turtles have an excellent nose for smelling. I know my dad’s scent and it seems to be very close. I feel better knowing my dad is close by and I may see him soon.

This is a very strange feeling to be traveling and going to a new place where you have never been before. I hope this new place will be as nice and peaceful as my old place. I don’t really like this small box that I’m in. I’m so glad my shelter is with me because I will hide under my familiar shelter till I am not so scared anymore.

It seems like the ride is over because all the movement has stopped. I try to look out the walls that confine me but it’s all kind of smoky looking. It has the smell of plastic. The surface is smooth and quite difficult to walk on. I begin to hear voices and they sound excited. I run under my shelter. Something lifts my shelter right off of me. I’m exposed. I huddle in the corner of my boxy confine that is not my home.

Then, some very large humans start talking to me. I don’t know much about human talk because I’m still a baby. If I had to guess what they were saying it would be, “Oh isn’t he just the cutest little turtle you ever saw. What a sweetie.”
They have smiles on their faces and they seemed very nice. I think they like me. And they didn’t call me a baby even though I am a baby. I’ve spent my entire life around humans that love me and care for me. So I know I will be in a safe place with these new humans. I’m still a little scared and nervous so I will stay under my shelter till I feel safe.

A big hand reaches in and picks me up. I’m scared. The hand is gentle and rubs the back of my shell. It feels nice but I keep my head and legs tucked inside my shell. I will not come outside my shell. They are being very gentle with me and are still talking in soft voices. I think I will be safe.

My new people place me in this huge box with invisible walls that I cannot escape through. They lined the bottom of my new home with pebbles. These pebbles are a little hard to navigate. My feet are very tiny and I am having some difficulty climbing over these pebbles and to me they are like climbing mountains. What can I say to them? I’m sure they don’t understand turtle talk. Maybe they will see the trouble I am having navigating these pebbles that seem like boulders. And I’m really thirsty.

I see the new people peering at me through the invisible walls and when I see this I run for my shelter to hide. They still have big smiles on their faces and they seem real nice but I’m still not all that comfortable around them. I see a fresh container of fruit and vegetables. My appetite is not very strong. I need to get used to living in this place with the invisible walls before I start eating on a regular cycle.

Oops, my new people have placed a tub of water in my new environment. It is quite slippery. I need to get out. I’m scared. Oops again. Darn. I’ve flipped over on my back and can’t get out of this mess. I will not cry. If I move my legs really, really fast I should flip back over on my tummy. Oh no, I see movement outside the invisible walls. It’s the new people reaching into my space. I will just pull my legs and head right inside my shell for safety reasons.

Wow, what happened? I’m right side down again. I see the smiling faces of the humans looking through my invisible walls. I head off for the protection of my shelter. And who says turtles are slow? So I guess these smiling face people are looking out for me after all. Maybe I will like them. Now if only they would remove some of these stones. This is rough terrain for a little one like me but the heat lamp feels good on my shell.

I’m starting to think that my new people are filled with love and compassion for me. They scooped me out and placed me back into my traveling bin. At first I thought I would be sent to another location. I was as still as a lump of dirt in the travel pen. I tucked my head and legs inside my shell and did not even start to cry. Well it was just a little cry and my legs did tremble a bit.

My stay in the traveling pen was not long. I was very gently placed back in my new home with the invisible walls. I was placed right on top of some soft brown dirt. Oh, the joy. Dirt smells so good. I suck in the aroma and began to dig furiously with my two front legs. It was easy work and the dirt was light and fluffy. I could smell the aroma of peat moss. I started my first burrow in my new environment.
So, here I sit about three inches beneath the soil feeling pretty happy and secure. I’m still missing my family but this could become a nice place to live. I still have that strong feeling that dad is close by. I can even smell the fresh strawberries that the humans have placed in the little dish by my shelter. I am so glad those rough pebbles have been replaced. I think my crying days are over.
I’m feeling pretty good about this new home and these humans that are taking good care of me. I just might stay here forever and ever. Right now I’m all snug and warm inside my burrow so I just might take a little nap and enjoy my new life.

Marvelous Moondance

Watched (AGAIN) Ausgust Rush last night. Makes me cry with happiness.
Van Morrison you rock. I need his CD but settled for this on Youtube. Whatever. The song stirs my soul.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K5E8Bc9q_ok

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcsZ671maPQ&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2K5IcpZEU4&feature=related


Music is everywhere - all you have to do is listen.

Tank the Turtle

Happy Birthday to ME. My significant other presented me with my birthday gifts yesterday. The first gift was so little I could barely see it. It was about the size of a fifty cent piece. It was a baby box turtle. It was the smallest turtle I have ever seen. And it is so cute. I have named the baby - Tank. Tank the turtle. He is a hatchling from a teacher who loves animals. And I thank her for this precious baby. Then, we moved on to the two other gifts - waiting outside. Two more big box turtles. Jim will now have a family. I am calling them Uno and Dos or thing 1 and thing 2. It also made the grief of losing Ron a tiny bit easier - although nothing will ever replace the Ronsterman.
Thank you Ms. Fralick for your gift. They will have the bestest home.

Farewell Ron

Ron the Ronster man died today. It happened so fast - no time to think. It's even hard to type with the stream of tears water falling down my face. I will miss him so and there will be this huge empty space inside of me.
To send him off to his happy hunting ground I wrapped him in my slightly torn Egyptian cotton 650 thread count sheets - after all he did love them so. Every chance he got he would jump up on our bed and roll around. He left behind tell tale black fur on the bed.
Life will be different without the big old bear always under foot - always wanting to play or going for a swim in the pool, chase squirrels or the cat - but mostly I shall miss his unconditional love that he offered for just a dog biscuit or to play catch with his toys.
Oh the memories to be held onto and talked about!!!
Good-bye Ron.

Happy Trails To You

The road of life is not always the straight and narrow, filled with flowers and sunshine and happy ever after. Sometimes it detours into the unknown - the unwanted - and the not so happy trails. Which sends my mind back to Roy Rogers and Dale Evans when they sang the song - 'Happy Trails'. My mind tends to wander aimlessly at times.

Anyway this path of life that has turned left filled with excessive speed bumps, dead ends and oh so many pot holes has gotten me - lost in paradise. But on the bright side of the moon pot holes eventually can be filled they just raise your taxes. Take it slow over the speed bumps - like a turtle. When the dead end hits you head on - turn around and turn right - if the sign says no right turns - just wait till you have the opportunity to make an illegal right turn.

Yesterday I purchased a pack of wild flower seeds to plant along my curvy path. It's Florida so the sun will shine and the rain may come in the late afternoon. But my wild flower seeds will need the rain to grow and blossom and bring me renewed hope. And if life was so perfect what would we have to complain about?

My lovely and very expensive Egyptian cotton sheets - 650 thread count - have bit the dust. The whole thing started when my toe got stuck in the darn thing. I gave it a yank and it made a tiny little tear in my wonderful Egyptian cotton 650 thread count - expensive sheets.

After I spent all that money on them babies I wasn't going to let a tiny little tear ruin my life. So I ignored the little imperfection. My insomnia causes me to toss and turn and wiggle like a worm. I suspect all that wiggling made that tiny little tear grow into a much larger tear. The tear became a foot sized tear. So on one of my sleepless nights my entire size 8 foot got stuck in the tiny tear that had grown to a bigger tear.

It was all down hill from there or down off the bed onto the floor would be more accurate. I'm trying desperately to get a half of a good nights sleep when the foot became tear bound. Half asleep means half awake and a little confused. In my dream a giant anole grabbed my foot and began to tug away. I kicked and rolled to remove myself from his death grip and fell right off the edge of the bed which in my dream was the edge of a cliff and wham.

The sheet or the tattered remains of the sheet came with me still attached to the size 8 foot - it's a dream so let's make that a size 6 foot! Actually it was a dream come to life when I hit the floor attached to an Egyptian cotton 650 thread count, very expensive sheet. So the fall of the Egyptian empire was wrapped around my size 6 foot - well the dream is gone so we are back to a size 8 foot.

New sheets were on the agenda. I clipped my coupon and headed for the store and went straight to the clearance rack. No more Egyptian cotton 650 thread count - expensive sheets for me. But OH! they feel so wonderful. This time I purchased cotton sateen sheets. We will see if they help my insomnia - my dreams - and my life in general.

Queen of Nothing

The other day on the radio (I love Sirius radio) I heard a David Bowie song about the Queen of Nothing. Not that I was ever a David Bowie groupie but I never recalled hearing that particular song. It catapulted me into a thinking mode about the Queen of Nothing.

I began to wonder who the Queen of Nothing was? What was she like? How did she feel? Was I - the Queen of Nothing?

I began to think I was. Like when I have this fluttering deep within the belly region and it works its way up into my throat sucking all the air out of me. It causes the heart to thump wildly and erratically and then it skips a beat and stops for just a second. The pounding reaches up inside the head and pain flicks through causing the pressure that brings on a migraine, Vision blurs, the arm goes numb and thoughts of no tomorrows take hold and then the anxiety swirls out of control. The floor spins my eyes get glossy and the tears flow down my face as if on a wild roller coaster ride. The Queen of Nothing?

I lay outside in the early morning when sleep cannot be found and I gaze up at the stars and count them. And then the stars materialize into a million stars - so many that it is impossible to count them all. They flash and move and shine their magnificent glow. Suddenly I realize I am but an insignificant grain of sand washing away in the tidal wave of life. The Queen of Nothing.

Surrounded by the stillness of silence I listen with absolute fascination. Way off in the distance a lone bird sings a song and then it ends abruptly as it began. Wrapped in the early morning darkness and the serene act of silence smothering me - I begin to weep. Quiet should be a need not a want. Even farther away in the distance a siren breaks through the silence and the sound drifts away with the tide and the stars. Back to a soundless morning with the morning dew sprinkled on the chairs and the black stillness of silence marches on. The Queen of Nothing.

A door slams fast and intended right in the face before my eyes have accepted the truth. The woody sound vibrates and creeps deep down into my tattered soul. I feel the phantom pain of the closure and hear every nail that is being pounded into the coffin. Life snuffed out like a burning cigarette with the charred ashes dropping carelessly to the ground. A wind from nowhere slinks across the earth and carries the ashes out to sea and they melt away with out any passion. The Queen of Nothing.

A song with some words takes on a life - a theatre production - a journey through a twisted jungle of emotions. Swaying with the breeze, snapping closed with a gust of wind, lifting off with hurricane force - falling into the deep dark cavern of pity. The Queen of Nothing.

I wonder about this Queen of Nothing and how she came to be and where did she travel and come to rest? Is she the epitome of fallen angels or dried up roses? Does silence part her soul? Does she connect with the stars, the moon, the sea and mother nature herself? When I look in the mirror is the Queen of Nothing in there?

Hormonal Replacement

I keep seeing these ads on T.V. about hormonal replacement. It sounds like a ticket into the Garden Of Eden. I'm ready to hop on that train to hitch a ride to the promised land. It would be awesome to live out my remaining years in the city of Utopia. With my luck it would end up being the lost city of Atlantis.

So this hormonal replacement therapy offers all the magic of a sorcerer or a shaman. It's like a cure all for aging. I wonder why they don't drive around in covered wagons with the medicine man (now it would be medicine person) and pass out the elixer for a days wages? They could call it 'Time in a bottle'.

A younger healthier body - I could go with that. Just tell me where to sign up for the Summer Olympics. I wonder if the Olympics has a category for the fastest person to do the laundry?

A brighter - stronger mind - Nobel Peace Prize here I come. I will be able to do my tax return in my head and ESP the results to the government. The book I haven't written will be on the best seller list for 10 weeks. I will converse with the gods phonics.

Your sagging fading memory will take on all the characteristics of an elephant. Who came up with that memory like an elephant? I wonder if they meant a body like an elephant? But I will remember where I left my glasses and did I take my pills this morning will never be necessary again. I will remember all the history dates that will be good knowledge for cocktail chatter.

It's just so hard to believe that hormonal replacement can change my life. One thing the ad leaves out is the cost. I wonder how much they charge to be smarter, stronger and have the memory like an elephant?

On thinking the matter over I will deal with the memory loss. I will wear my glasses on that stupid looking chain around my neck. I'll pass on getting into MENSA. I'll just watch the history channel for important facts and dates. And I'll watch the Olympics on the television if I can find the darn remote and figure out how to program the T.V. And my checking account will not be overdrawn. I will reside in the same old dull town and dream of better places.

Noli Irritare Leones

Some days it is just easier staying in your hole as opposed to crawling out to the outside world and facing reality. The bite of reality hurts. Trying to stay positive is an uphill struggle pulling a thousand pound boulder behind you. You could push the boulder but that might make it even harder. You could push the boulder over the rocky cliff - but wait you are attached to the thousand pound boulder.

I suppose you could get a pick axe and chip away at the boulder but that would take way too long. Blisters would appear on your hands, your shoulders would ache and the heat in Florida could bring on heat exhaustion.

What to do with that thousand pound boulder tugging at your existence?

Perhaps - stand on top of it and sing, laugh and dance a jig. Then the people in the white coats would come and take you away - hey - hey. But first they would need to remove the thousand pound boulder and the insurance may not cover the bill and then you would be up THAT creek without a paddle and a life vest and the river would be over populated with gators and water moccasins. It just goes on and on.


NOLI IRRITARE LEONES

The Rats of NIMH

A favorite book of mine is The Rats of NIMH. I have named my rats in the Rubbermaid shed - The rats of NIMH. (not in my home) There is no comparison to the book and the rats that have taken over my Rubbermaid shed but my mind works in strange and bizarre ways.

The have-a-heart trap doesn't work. At least now I don't have to worry about their disposal from the trap. I put in cheese - American processed cheese - I guess it does nothing for their taste buds. Perhaps I should have used a Gouda? Who knew rats would be so darn fussy about what they eat. Or, maybe they knew it was a trap. Maybe these are superior high intelligent citrus rats who have taken up permanent residence in my plastic Rubbermaid shed.

Since the have-a-heart trap did not work we moved on to a bigger and better method of disposal. A drop dead permanent method - rat poison. Not my favorite thing to do but ya gotta do what ya gotta do and that is git-r-done and rid the Rubbermaid shed of the unwanted squatters.

Well, I do believe that the rat poison is winning because there is a very unuser unfriendly smell seeping out of the Rubbermaid shed. YUCK. Now - what do I do with the dead rat bodies?

Gator man

The sleepy little Florida town of New Port Richey has made it to the big time. We've been in all the papers and this morning we were on the Today Show. Amazing. As some would say but not I.
The story is about an alligator wrestler - who does this in public before the eyes of the world. Unfortunately this alligator wrestler was injured during the performance. He was air lifted to a local hospital.
My disgust with this performance in alligator wrestling is right up there next to dog fighting. A person takes a wild animal keeps it captive in a cage and wrestles with the poor creature in a 'performance'. Is this gator frightened? Humiliated? I am.
It just seems so wrong to do this to wild creatures. What's the point? Make a little money off of animal cruelty and it is animal cruelty. But it made news for the sleepy little Florida town of New Port Richey. I would rather we make national news in a more productive and pleasant atmosphere.

Flexibility is the key

So today was sweetiekins birthday and yesterday was Mother's Day. Is there a connection? Yes, of course everything I think about is connected one way or another.
I decided to get snookums a birthday cake and take it to his work and surprise him. I got up early - forfeited the morning shower - took a bath instead. No time to dry my hair. I prefer showers but what the hay it was his special day.
Off I go to the grocery store and it doesn't open till 8 AM. Darn - can't wait that long. So I drive miles and miles out of my way - actually not that far but who's counting.
I price the premade birthday cakes and right then and there I go into birthday cake sticker shock. Okay - is he worth it? Well, he is but my pocketbook is telling me another story. I'm wandering around the store working on only one cup of coffee and I spy it. Mother's Day cakes.
It's not that I'm cheap - okay - I am but I have good reasons to be like that. The big sign by the Mother's Day cakes says 50% off. My kind of bargain. I snatched one of those suckers right off the shelf. 'MOM' in big bold white artery clogging frosting.
I take my prized purchase out to the car and ever so gently lift the plastic dome and attack 'MOM'. Rearrange is a better choice of words. I make the M into an R, the O is fine and the last M into a B. Looks a little cheesy but I like cheese cake.
I drive to his work and drop off his surprise and drive away with this HUGE smile on my face. He will never know.

Happy Birthday Ronbert

Happy Birthday to my 'sweetie'. You are the best. Have a great day on your birthday.

Love, Me!!!!

Rules is Rules

According to the rules of the home owners association we are not permitted to place outside structures in our backyard. Rules are rules and I do not always like them. I do try to abide by the rules - sometimes. Anyway - houses in Florida do not have basements and they have very minuscule attics. The two car garage takes the brunt of the overflow of junk.

What happens when your garage hits the full mark? You put up one of those Rubbermaid storage shed. They are not permanent so they cannot fall into the category of an outside shed. HA. A way around the rules.

Recently I discovered there were critters living in my outdoor non-permanent shed. The droppings said - more than a mouse. Rats. Citrus rates. I don't know why because I have never had any citrus on my citrus trees. Whatever! They had to go. How?

Yesterday we bought have-a-heart trap. To remove said trespassers from my plastic shed that during a hurricane will most likely land in the next cul-de-sac - without tenants.

So my thoughts are - when I do capture one of these furry disgusting rodents in my have-a-heart trap - WHAT then? I have an unwanted live rat. I want him dead but I caught him in a have-a-heart trap. The name implies that he should live. But I don't want him living here.

Still waiting to catch one of those little rascals but when I do - what to do?

Lemons make you pucker

That old saying pops into my head - 'If life gives you lemons make lemonade.' What if ? you're tired of making lemonade all the time! You've made enough lemonade from all the lemons you get to fill Lake Erie. You have even moved on to making margaritas and substituting the lemons with limes. And still the lemons they come.

It's like a giant pity party. Woe is me. Why me? Whine a little with the wine. When do you just say 'NO'? And then move on to the next absurd saying.

Actually you make bold statements like - 'Life isn't fair.' The response to that is - 'Who said life is fair?' The sad reality is - life isn't fair. A fair would have cotton candy, bright lights, wonderful music, fortune tellers, gamers, and thrilling rides on a roller coaster or the ferris wheel. Cotton candy will rot your teeth. Bright lights will bring on a migraine. Music will make you even more deaf than what you already are. A gnarly old fotune teller will spill out your disasterous impending doom. the gamers will lure you in and your new addiction will be gambling. The ferris wheel ride will break down as you are swinging slightly from the very top. And the wild roller coaster ride will make you puke up all that cotton candy so perhaps maybe it won't rot your teeth after all. Life isn't fair - indeed.

The pity party goes global. Whining escalates 10 more decibels. Woe is me continues. Why me, why me? NOOOO! And then move on to the next bizarre saying.

'Life sucks then you die.' Now that's a real uplifting saying. Life does suck like a carp lurking around at the bottom of a river sucking up all the scum of the earth or actually all the scum at the bottom of the river. I believe carp are called bottom feeders a good name for slurping up all that debris from the floor of the river. If it weren't for the carp where would all that scum go to? Bottom dwellers must live that saying of - life sucks. They suck up all the bad stuff because they know nothing else and it's a survival skill they have learned. If I was a carp I would regurgitate all the scum at the bottom of the river and watch it rise to the top and slowly drift away into oblivion.

Soon the pity party would need an event planner. Whining would be as loud as a jet engine taking off. Woe is me would be plastered on Twitter a thousand times a day. Why me? would be blasted from the mountain tops from a megaphone and flow over the land and down to mix with the scum that collects at the bottom of the rivers. Just start a 'NO' campaign.

Old sayings pertaining to the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness will live on and spice up our lives that at times seem frustrating and bleak. So today I start out my day with three things that make me happy.

1. It's Saturday.
2. I can smell the coffee.
3. The pity party has been postponed.

Some days I just have the urge to ramble about nothing.

Ring tones

Ring...ring. The sound phones make and the sound some cell phones make. I have always been not exactly happy with my cell phone free choice of ringers just accepting - I guess.

Paying money for a ring tone on my cell phone seems bizarre to me. Probably because I'm cheap. So I take only what is offered to me by my cell phone service provider. Then, the whole process of trying to download a ring tone to my cell phone would push me over the edge. That's what happens when one is electronically challenged.

Today while driving in the car to work (almost done - summer is almost here) listening to the radio I heard this ring. I reach over to grab my cell phone before I realize it's a song on the radio. And my cell phone doesn't even have a song ring tone.

I can imagine what would happen if I had one of the top ten tunes as a ring tone. I'd be talking to nobody alot. Perhaps I am ring tone deaf. Or perhaps my mind was wandering aimlessly. Unfortunately that happens to me quite often.

Summer in Florida

It's that time in Florida that I like the least. The onset of summer. She's slowly slipping in rolling across the dried burnt grass of my front lawn. It crunches as you walk across it. It's even more than just the heat - it's the dreaded humidity.

You walk around with your clothes dripping wet from sweat clinging to your body like over cooked noodles. You feel sticky, smelly and bloated. Walking down a sidewalk you can feel the heat rising as if it comes from the fires of hell. It jumps up and smacks you hard in the face taking away your breathe. Your rubber soled shoes sticking to the sidewalk like tasteless discarded gum.

And this is merely the beginning of the summer saturation. Just a fraction of what will be coming during the full force of the summer months. I'm wishing I was a snowbird so I could head north looking for a little relief from the heat and oppressive humidity. I'm thinking about spending another summer living in the pool - not such a bad idea. Anything to escape the heat and humidity. After awhile the pool water is as hot as the air and relief is nowhere around. Then shelter is sought inside air conditioned buildings where the summer days are wasted away - waiting for cooler weather.

I wonder what it was like in Florida before air conditioners? Wait!! I grew up in Florida. We had NO air conditioner and not even a fan. WOW! How did I survive? I certainly don't remember the heat and humidity but then I was a kid. Having fun - enjoying life - no worries. How strange that our memories change over time. More than likely as I hit the rocking chair stage I will be wrapped up in my sweater whining that I'm cold.

Heading for a dip in the pool to start my day.

Ode to Erma Bombeck

If life were a bowl of cherries we would be extremely busy reading the label. Once we found out about how many grams of sugar and sodium we were consuming it would send us into a panic attack. And don’t forget all the preservatives in those little red maraschino cherries. They do look pretty in that peach margarita in the fancy glass topped off with that fecal encrusted lemon slice. I’m trying hard to get over the lemon scare but unfortunately it still haunts me. People tell me it’s an urban legend. I believe in legends, ghosts and the monster under the bed. Everything at one time or another scares me.

So off we go to our primary care physician - the one our health plan says we must see and the moment he checks our weight his eyes roll around in his head and he demands a blood test. The doctor will admonish us for overindulging and request that we speak with a dietitian but the insurance will not cover this so we listen to the doctor’s lecture about our eating habits.

Then the blood tests will come back and it shows our cholesterol level is way over the acceptable mark and we are given pills and a strict diet to correct said problems. By this time the high sodium content has causes our feet to swell up like a dead fish and we can’t slip comfortably into our favorite shoes. So we are forced to wear our flip-flops to work which are against the dress code rule but we have no alternative. More than likely we will be given a verbal reprimand for wearing flip flops to work. Can’t you see we sport elephant feet?

Let’s not even discuss that it’s beach weather and that two piece bathing suit only covers one part of the bloated body. It does coordinate nicely with the flip flops. So we’re back to eating oatmeal every morning – yuck. And now forced to have given up swimming in the gulf due to the oil spill off the coast of Louisiana - that can’t be good for our health. And the sun causes more skin cancer cells and wrinkles stretching out the skin as if it were a decaying rubber band and makes us look like a shar-pei – thank you very much for that compliment. The sand irritates the blister between the toes caused by the flip-flops and it makes us walk funny like a duck. So you see this person waddling along the shore (oil soaked) with way too much muffin top showing wearing an ugly dog suit. Darn those cherries. This would definitely be a great ad for lowering the cholesterol level. Instead of a very healthy looking person with a smile wide enough to swallow an entire water melon with teeth whiter than snow rollicking barefoot in the sand with a handsome model that must be her son and not her mate. Show us the truth.

And while we are consuming these cherries while sitting over the septic tank in Florida the septic tank would very soon become a sinkhole. Could be from the weight we have gained from those cherries. The sinkhole would expand to engulf the house, the garage and the neighbor’s patio and sink quietly into the bowels of the earth. Then we would remember that we cancelled the sinkhole coverage on the house because we couldn't afford that and the medical insurance premium, the deductible, prescriptions for lowering our cholesterol and all those blood test the doctor ordered. So here we sit at the bottom of the pit in you know what - eating our cherries. Darn they are good.

Turtle Trawl

It was a quiet day in the neighborhood - until I took the trash out to the curb for early morning Monday pick-up. For whatever reason the noisy trash tuck starts pick-up about 3AM. Unless one lives in a sound proof dungeon there is NO getting away from the noise. It roars and clanks until everyone is awake and out of bed. It must be a law that all garbage trucks make mega noise and start in the wee hours of the morning. Okay a little off track on this thought but that is why I was out front.

I looked across the street and there was a red truck parked in the road. And something was moving beneath the red truck. I watched. It was a slow mover. Then I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me again. I stood by the trash cans and squinted. Intrigue got the best of me. I headed down the cul-de-sac.

Just then at that very moment the guy with the fifth wheeler was pulling up behind the little red truck. By this time I was thinking the object under the red truck was a tortoise. Occasionally they end up touring our street.

So I start out a a fast pace toward the fifth wheeler. He pulls up tight to the little red truck and the object freezes.

I crawl under the truck and it is not a tortoise but a red eared slider. Mr. Smith grabs his work gloves and rescues the slider from beneath the little red truck. HHHMMM - red eared sliders are water turtles and the only water around here is in my pool and turtle ponds. I take the pathetic looking guy home.

What I don't need is another water turtle.What to do with him is the next question? Too many red eared sliders are released into the wilds of Florida. This guy is pretty big so I assume he has not been someones pet for a very long time.

People of Walmart

The people of Walmart site is a good site to troll when you are feeling like you need and uplift or a rip roaring laugh. http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
I only go to Walmart in the wee hours in the morning - to avoid rifraf and other strange oddities. Well, apparently I did not go early enough this morning. They were out in droves. I was sure wishing I had my camera to catch a few photo's of the parade of lowlife. I really don't know what else to call them?
The next time I make an early morning run to my local Walmart I will go in my jammies with fuzzy HUGE slippers my muffin top showing to the whole wide world and my jammies hanging well below my hips to show off my thong undies if in fact I wear them that day. I will dye my hair rainbow colors my boobs will be down to my waist without a bra and they will be a size 42 DDD. Enough of the visual.

One day I will walk into Walmart in my jammies just for the fun of it. Well - maybe not but I can fantasize or actually have nightmares during the day.
Why do they do it? There should be a law against it but then I guess they are expressing their creativity.

Touche'

Variations....

Out the In

There is something inherently wrong with people that go out the 'IN'. Can you not read? I suspect you can but I suspect you feel that you can do whatever because it is owed to you. Follow the rules. If it says 'IN' it means 'IN' not 'OUT'.
Just the other day when I was going 'IN' the grocery store with my cart which leaves little room for anything else - there you are coming out my 'IN' space. It's like a violation of my space. And then when you leave the parking lot you drive against the arrows. Get a life - or perhaps I should get a life and not pay attention to those that go out the 'IN'.
On the thought of 'IN' - I have these two lovely creatures that are displayed right next to my 'IN' door at home. I don't have the sign that says 'IN' but it's still 'In'. And I can still go out but that's okay because it is not a public place. So there be the difference - whatever....
Back to my creatures - my beautiful colorful creatures - with the stoned looking eyes. They are from one of my favorite places - Key West. Everytime I go 'In' my front door there they are to greet me and remind me of Key West. They also look like the folks that one sees at Key West. Such an interesting place. I bet people there don't go out the 'IN'.