Sunday, January 30, 2011
Last year my husband and I for the first time in our married life found ourselves dog less. At first the grieving process consumed all of my waking thoughts and occasionally slipped into my dreams. I admit I did not miss the gobs of dog hair lining all the baseboards and crevices in the house, a furry mass always underfoot, searching for a dog sitter at vacation time and that all too dreaded bath time.
After awhile life settled back into the same old routine but something was missing. I was longing for a little fur ball to love once again. I found a dog rescue site and began to visit the site on a daily basis. My husband and I had some serious discussion about getting another dog. We both decided if we did obtain another dog it would definitely be a rescue dog.
I searched the rescue site almost daily viewing cute little bundles of cuddly pups, designer dogs, registered dogs and basic mutts. Many of the dogs were abandoned or abused and it tore at my heart strings. I had pretty much decided that a puppy was out of the question. I am not a master at puppy training. During one of my searches I came across what I thought was the ugliest dog on this planet. He also had a pathetic sadness about him. I thought who would want a dog like that?
My husband and I visited the rescue shelter and looked at the available pets. We walked by Mr. Ugly and he turned his face away from us. I’m thinking – anti-social. We walked on past him to a spunky little schnauzer. We walked several of the dogs but none of them felt right. We made several trips back to the shelter and one time my brother came with us.
I walked by Mr. Ugly’s cage, obviously no one wanted him as he was still sitting inside that metal cage looking dejected. In a second we made eye contact and then just as quickly he turned his head. My brother made a comment about his scraggly appearance. For some strange reason I decided to take the little ragamuffin outside for a walk. He was terrified and started to shake uncontrollably. I put him back in the cage and walked on to the next dog waiting for a forever home. I walked back to Mr. Ugly’s cage and he refused to acknowledge me.
I took him outside for another walk and he trembled so he almost fell on the ground. I picked up his shaking little body and held him to my chest where he promptly placed his head against my heart. And the sparks ignited. I knew we needed him as much as he needed us. It is hard to put my feelings into words about Russ (no more Mr. Ugly) and how he has changed our life. The joy and physical activity he has bestowed upon us is certainly amazing and healthy for us. Wow!
Now, my sweet little boy is in a contest with a large chunk of the winnings going to the non-profit rescue that saved his life and improved mine. Please take the time to vote for Russ and improve the chances for other unwanted dogs to find a forever home. http://bissell.promo.eprize.com/mvpcontest/gallery?id=43834
Thursday, January 27, 2011
I know life is not always fair BUT when it is not fair to me I take offense. Most of the time I just slide along and drift through life trying to be happy and usually I have success. Then every once in a blue moon (I've never seen a blue moon) something stops me in my tracks, knocks me over and rolls me off my pathway in life. Today I was hit by one of those life's interruptions and I still am in shock.
One of my relaxing-destressing tactics is to go in the bathroom light a candle turn off the overhead light - draw a really hot bath and plop in my dead sea salt bath crystals. It is 'take me away calgon' moment without the calgon. I feel immediate relief from the days toils.
I just heard on the news that Florida is banning bath salts! Yep, they will no longer be on store shelves. WHY???? Because some fools have decided to smoke the salts and get high and sometimes dead. Dead sea bath salts. Hmmm.
Who would ever think about smoking bath salts? I am just totally mystified. What will they be smoking next? Baby food!!!!!
So this is a large bump in my road life journey and it is not fair - To Me. What is the world coming to? My one cheap form of relaxation is being taken away from me and everyone else who sits in a tub with dead sea bath salts.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
The sutures have been removed and the boot has been discarded and I no longer waddle around like a duck. Not that duck waddling is a bad thing it's just that when I waddle like a duck it throws out my back.
I can put on a pair of real shoes today and feel almost human again. So glad this foot surgery episode is over and done with! If there is a recurrence I might just have to live with the pain and suffering. No way in hill do I want to undergo foot surgery ever again.
So today I will focus on happy thoughts.
1. I am happy hubby finished with the bathroom and he did an awesome job. I love my new sink and new matching accessories.
2. I am happy the weather is warming up now I can wear my new Flt-flops and show off my new and improved walking foot. And my peach tree is loaded with blossoms.
3. I am happy Russ's service dog training is coming along so-fine. He is such a little sweetie and makes me smile.
4. I am happy that I won a writing contest about camping. It has inspired me to write more.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
I wonder why they have never made a movie called - "Vegetable Peeler Massacre'? Iffin they did I could be the star - with blood and guts - well maybe not the guts but lotsa blood. Who would have thought that a tiny little weapon like a vegetable peeler could do so much damage to a thumb? A vegetable peeler - a sharp vegetable peeler should be handled with extreme caution.
Actually it may be hubby's fault he's the one that bought that brand spanking new SHARP vegetable peeler. He knows how I am but still he let me take that fandangled peeler in my hands and slice off my skin. And it came off fast and easy. Didn't feel a thing till I saw all that red blood (guess I'm not a blue blood)spurting off the top of my left thumb.
That would have been a great scene - all that blood spurting right out of my thumb (still intact) and me looking at it in paralyzed horror screaming just like a sissy girl. In all those horror movies the girls always stand around screaming as if they were zombies. They never show guys standing screaming - sexist movies. Whatever - I hurt and I scream but I do get out of my own way and do not wait for the evil villain to get me.
I wonder who the evil villain would be in the 'Vegetable Peeler Massacre'? A cantankerous carrot? An Idaho spud gone mad? An old dull paring knife feeling useless and ignored. Perhaps I should stop ignoring the old dull paring knife. I would have never almost bled to death if I had used the standby dull paring knife.
I'm thinking a movie like this may win a Golden Globe award and perhaps I could be nominated for best actress with a sissy girl scream but very independent and resourceful. I wonder if there are any sharp edges on the Oscar?
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Spring has sprung in Florida and it's only January. My peach tree is overflowing with awesome pink blossoms. What will happen this weekend when the evening temperatures drop into the 30's? My pretty in pink petals will surely be damaged or destroyed. The weather is a constant contradiction - here and around the globe.
One pretty petal in particular caught my eyes. It was almost a beauty except for missing parts. A deformed blossom. I wonder if fruit will be produced from this defective bloom?
When I looked at the almost beautiful - pretty-in-pink blossom I felt that a part of its soul was damaged. If the soul is damaged life can be brutal. Will life be unkind to my special blossom?
My mind wanders off the track before morning coffee. Sometimes it meanders slowly and at other times it takes off like a rocket to the moon. This morning I'm in that between stage where my thoughts are restless and unsatisfied but little motivation to act. Butter Toffee coffee sounds good.
Plants will have to be carted back into the house for the weekend cold weather. There is no way the poor peach tree can hide from the cold weather front moving in. I will have to hope for the best and let mother nature take her path. I have visions of a tree loaded with sweet Florida peaches in the early spring but now my hopes are dimming. More coffee.
And having coffee now is so much more delightful with the new and improved single cup coffee machine with so many flavors to choose from. Life is good when coffee is readily available and so many flavors. I have choices but my peach tree has none. I always thought Georgia had the best peaches till my Florida peach tree produced the sweetest peaches I have ever tasted.
Friday, January 21, 2011
One of the Writing Wombats members posted some UTube music videos of the early invasion by British rock bands. Remember Manfred Mann? And the list goes on and on. I began my search down memory lane. I was hooked and slipped back into those wonderful years.
When young and foolish and growing up in Florida my friends and I became groupies of a band called the Roemans. My first love was Lanny Langford. I googled his name and sadly found out he was killed a long time ago. Sadness washed over me almost obliterating my memories. So sad such a talented individual had to die.
My best friend was smitten with Joe Pappalardo. I googled him also. He's a writer.
Oh the memories. Dew or tears.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
The fog began to roll in slowly last night covering the low lying areas. This morning its mission complete heavy fog hangs over the earth. And me walking around in the back yard walking the dog and hoping he would do his business lickety-split but of course he took his time to complete the task - as always.
It was dark and spooky looking walking amongst the trees and bushes. Reminded me of one of those scary movies where the bad guy or the vampire jumps out and grabs you. And the wetness of the fog just clings to me like a spider web. I hate spiders.
Hurry up I think - hoping that the little guy will get this over and done with and we can retreat to the safe confines of the house. But - NO - he stands there sniffing the cool morning air. Come on - get on with it. I need coffee.
Finally the deed is done and off like a bullet he leaves me standing in the dark, foggy back yard with the hair on the back of my neck standing at attention. I look at the moon misted in fog and clouds trying desperately to peek through and lead me to the door.
My slippered feet crunch against the dead dew covered grass as I wait for the behind the tree monster to lurch out and attack me. No behind the tree monsters or vampires just a morning breeze flapping against the few leaves that are left on the trees. I bolt for the door and slide right out of my warm fuzzy slippers.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
My thoughts are in this strange place - kind of like living in the Twilight Zone with Rod Serling as your Mayor. http://www.rodserling.com/
It's all about these reality television programs. Average people (supposedly) with a camera attached to their faces 24/7. And everything documented and played out for the world to see. That is those that wish to watch this t.v. trash. And I am being sooooo judgemental. STOP IT.
I don't even watch it but I see the commercials. People who devour household cleansers and eat toilet paper. Get real. I mean if you want more fiber in your diet eat leaves. Some things should truly be kept behind closed doors. The fact that you have piles of useless trash overtaking your house just makes me wonder about your mental condition.
And then the animal hoarders. EEECCCKKK. I hate the smell of cat urine from just one feline and I change the litter box weekly. I even bought the new corn kitty litter. Now if you're needing fiber in your diet try the corn kitty litter instead of toilet paper - 50 cats in one house with no litter box. My stomach is tossing and I can smell the smell right through the television. Well, I guess that is reality t.v.
In my younger days - not that I am old - well just a little - no make that not at all. Bizarre actions like eating toilet paper would certainly be kept behind closed doors. We would never let the neighbors know - let alone the whole nation. It would be something kept within the family.
Then, I think of how I could cash in on a reality television show - grow rich and unfamous and become a celebrity. What is it about my life that people would want to watch? Not much that is interesting or bizarre. Well there was the time I put those googly-eyes on my kumquat and took a picture of it for a contest. Where is the drama in that?
I talk to my animals but I do believe that is on the normal side. And if I did have a great story to be turned into a reality television program would I want the world to see? Probably not. The really scaring part of life is that the Balloon Boy has moved to Florida. These wanna be reality stars are taking over the world. I wonder if they are aliens disguised as humans?
I wonder if they eat single ply or double ply toilet paper? And does it roll forward or backwards. I let my toilet paper roll forward and I love folding it to a point after every use like they do in some fancy hotels. Next I will put a piece of chocolate on my pillow every night. That sounds good - eating chocolate every night much better than eating toilet paper.
What ever happened to colored toilet paper? If your favorite color was blue you could eat blue toilet paper. And perhaps after eating enough of that stuff you could audition to be in the Blue Man Group.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Taking a one-legged bath is not an easy task but then neither is tweezing nose hair. It's all relevant. Our life on this planet is at times turned sideways and upside down. I never tweeze nose hair. Perhaps someday I may but not in the prime of my life. Hubby has mutant eyebrow hair that needs mowing every once in awhile - not sure about his nose hair and don't really care. I have my own troubles. Like getting in and out of the bathtub.
You may think this is an easy task but let me assure you it isn't. First we don't have that silver bar attached to the side of the tub like some hotel rooms and the toilet is ever so close to the side of the tub leaving little space to maneuver. A one leg in the tub maneuver. Good thing it's the left leg because it's a right sided tub.
Getting in is somewhat easy after I get off the 10 pound boot I have to wear on my healing foot. Then, I need to make sure it is within easy access when I get out of the tub. So, I plop the boot right in front of the commode for easy retrieval upon exiting. But never-never-ever get the dang boot wet. That is a complete no-no. Gotta keep those stitches dry.
So I slip in sideways to the tub with the left leg hanging over the side and try to wash off all the germs I have acquired in a day. I can no longer use a key pad at an ATM due to all the fecal matter they have living there. Another story on that one. I try not to be klutzy and splash water on my left foot. Moving around in the tub with the leg dangling over the edge takes acrobatic skills. Which of I have few or less.
Now - get out of the tub without any assistance and no silver bar for help. We do have a ceramic soap holder which is useless for holding soap but can be used for trying to exit the tub in a fashionable manner. Wait - this is not the runway or a red carpet. Fashion does not exist in the bathroom when I am exiting the tub. Just NO splashing water.
Once perched on the side of the tub that is now dripping wet and slippery I hold on to that useless ceramic soap holder for dear life. Please have good workmanship and DO NOT break off into my slippery hand. Let go of the ceramic soap holder and lean forward and grab on the toilet seat cover and swing the body on the pot. Make sure the lid is up because the toilet seat cover is vinyl and sleek. It does match the shower curtain.
So here I sit on the commode and search for my boot that has somehow made its way just out of my reach. Okay I can crawl over and pick it up on the cold ceramic tile floor with my left foot held high in the air. Maybe I can yell for help to hubby. That seems like a better option. I feel so helpless sitting here on the commode wrapped in a my plush green towel that goes so well with my bathroom decor - but that has no correlation to my current predicament.
So I take a few moments to meditate and ponder the bathroom sanctuary and I am happy I have the feeling of living under the sea with bright colored fishes. Maybe next time I could do a sink wash up.
I can't wait for my foot to heal and sandal weather. WAIT - this is Florida it's always sandal weather.......
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Our sweet little rescue mutt has some odd quirks. I am still impressed how well he behaves (most of the time)with what he has gone thru in his previous life. I wonder if he was loved and somehow just became lost. I really hoped he wasn't abused but every once in awhile he cowers like he has been at one time. Not now. He has a good life with two people that love him to pieces.
Not so much at 2 AM in the morning - like this morning. He never runs to the door to let us know - he's gotta go. He performs these strange rituals that you figure out all by yourself after watching him. Like at 2 AM this morning. Yes, he sleeps with us even though we vowed for that to NEVER happen. We caved.
His prancing around the bed and plopping his 8 pound body on me woke me right up out of a sound sleep. I pushed him off. He is a persistent little guy. He did races across the foot of the bed. I tried to ignore him - not possible. Then he walks across my back over my shoulders and plops down on my pillow. Move it I whisper.
He ignores me. I physically remove him from my pillow and place him by the foot of the bed. He inches his way back up and then starts that licking that sounds like an alarm clock going off.
Back on the pillow and right in my face. Why doesn't he just walk over to the door and bark? That would be simple. He never barks when he needs to go out and relieve himself. He does these little odd quirks which do get your attention. But - it's 2 AM and I am recovering from surgery and it's cold outside. Why didn't you pee before I went to bed.
Hubby is way sound asleep and nothing not even that incessant licking (who knows where?) will wake him. It's left up to me the invalid to take the little bugger out. As soon as I open the door he darts outside into the darkness as I stand lopsided in the cold waiting for his return. Why doesn't he use the dog door. I guess I will have to work on that one.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Yesterday, I had my third foot surgery within a sixth month period. On the same foot...........Needless to say I am not a happy camper. Life rolls along. I should be focusing on the positive aspects of this.....hhhmmmmm. What could they be? Stop whining and think good thoughts.
Okay, perhaps this will be the final surgery. YES!!!!! Much better attitude.
So there I was laying on that chair/table operating piece of equipment and it seemed very high in the air and who would be afraid of heights - ME. I tried not to look way far down or up at the table filled with medical instruments like scissors, blades, scalpels, tweezers, needles and sutures. Speaking of needles the needle the doctor was attempting to use looked like it could take down an elephant. And it was coming toward the bottom of my foot. Time to faint.
I have been through this procedure once before where my doctor operated on my arch right there in his office in a mini operating room. Brings back terrifying thoughts. He states it's safer not to put me all the way under with anesthesia. Not easier or less painful. But - who is the one on the table? Me. Not the good doctor.
The needle and the pain it causes is beyond nice words so I can't say how I really felt but one could use many four letter words and potty mouth words to describe it. And that gigantic needle stuck in the very tender part of my foot hurt like hill. Yes, I screamed and whimpered like a greased piggie. Right now after the fact it raises the hair on the back of my neck. The good doctor apologizes throughout the painful ordeal but lets me know it only hurts for a little while. Yeah - it's not him on the operating chair/table. My foot is now numb.
So the surgery goes off and is over and done with in a short amount of time. Then, the good doctor shows me the removed offending piece of meat. Red and ugly and bloody. Now that's something to make your day. I will never again eat red meat.........
Now lace up the incision time. He draws the black sutures up and holds it high in the air. I really don't need to be watching him thread another needle, so I count the holes in the ceiling tiles instead. I get to number 99 and feel a little pinch on the bottom of my foot. OMG!!!!! The numbness injection is wearing off and I can feel that needle piercing my skin. YIKES!!!!
Okay, my options would be to tell the good doctor that I am feeling a little sensation on the bottom of my foot every time that needle slices into my pink tender epidermis. And he would most likely plunge that big needle into the bottom of my foot again. No way in hill. I keep my mouth tightly clamped and bite my tongue. Sometimes silence is golden even though there is a little bit of pain.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
The sky was blue as a gemstone gleaming in the mid day sun painted with puffs of billowing white clouds. Sharp golden rays from the sun cast bright patterns against the earth. A northern wind wiggles across the lands swaying the fronds of the mighty queen palms. Life rolls along as smooth as the orange skin of a kumquat.
Then the sun went into hiding and the sky turned dark like a moonless night in the middle of winter. And my vision was impaired. Thunder burst from the darkening sky and boomed with the power of fireworks. And my hearing was impaired. Lighting snapped from the sky and danced across the sand. And my security was impaired.
I was alone on an island with no place to go.
Fires spread across the fields and forest with puffs of smoke smothering the air. And my breathing was impaired. Lost and helpless in this smoke and haze hoping for a brighter day. The land was scorched and dry covered with a blackness that permeated the land.
Rains like monsoons dripped from the sky - endlessly - and washed away sand dunes and my little spark of hope. Rivers became oceans overflowing the banks and mutilating the earth. And I could barely keep afloat and swim to the dock.
Trapped in a cell without windows or doors. Trying desperately to reach out and pull him back. so close but yet so far.
Addiction touches a life and the domino effect takes hold. We are knocked down right along with the ones we love. Grasp on to that lifeline of hope and never let go.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Sooner or later they all end up in Florida. Florida is a huge melting pot of creative, loving and off the scale individuals. The diversity and absurdity in Florida is like no other alien planet. And I love it in Florida. Florida is so more much better than The Jersey Shore or Desperate Housewives. There is always something brewing on the back burner in Florida.
So who should appear - not a shiny nosed reindeer that was last month.....BUT.....Ballon Boy and his wack parents. Not only did they move to the wonderful state of Florida they moved close to me. Oh no.
I will have to keep my eyes to the sky in search of another escapee balloon. I will keep my camcorder close by to catch that elusive ship possibly carrying a young child and place it right smack on You Tube. Documentation of his next project or disaster. Isn't it amazing what some will do for attention and notoriety.
As for me I just want to float through life having fun and being happy. Not exactly floating I do want my two wobbly feet planted firmly on the sandy soil in Florida. The soil where it is impossible for me to grow anything. Whatever......Speaking of feet and not the smelly kind but the kind that are going under the surgeons knife once again. OUCH and YUCK -----when will this nightmare end?
Think positive, think positive. Today is a beautiful day in Florida. Think about the balloon boy and the drama that may come with them residing in the Sunshine state of Florida with a new Governor who says he will create more jobs and then fires 11 people. I'm not good in math but this doesn't add up.
And let's not forget Robert the doll and the pin I purchased for hubby that says ......Robert Did It....he being a Robert, it seemed appropriate.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Drifting in a sea of despair where the future looks bleak and unreachable a little whisper of hope floats by and beckons your soul. The darkness of the earth has lifted and a light shines upon her apron.
The New Year has slipped into my life without fanfare or fireworks. I just woke up one day and there she was 2011. I made a simple and achievable New Year’s resolution as last year’s came to fruition.
I’m an early riser so I was sitting with the eyes glued to the computer monitor playing my new game – stress management mah-jongg – and it works. Sometimes!!!! Today for some reason it did little to alleviate my stress. The strange part of it was I had gotten the whopping score of 1000. Wowser……
I hear the sound of the trash truck scouring the neighborhood for recyclables – the kind you place in semi clear blue bags and plop at the end of your driveway. I look out the window at the neighbor’s blue bag and my confidence takes a nose dive. Smack right down – face first into the dark place. All my woes, insecurities, issues and drama bubble inside me like a volcano ready to erupt. Why – I think to me and me alone?
A wonderful new year lies in front of me and woe is me is strutting by the banks of the raging river. I have so much to be happy about and so much to be thankful for – what is stirring up this kettle of hot sauce? A garbage bag sitting at the curb? The despair in the world? Taxes and health care? A broken nail?
What happened to my positive attitude? What happened to my 3 happy thoughts of the day? What has caused this dark cascade of gloom to sweep down upon me?
I take a walk outside in the cool freshness of a winter morning in Florida – and absorb the beauty and clean fresh smell of the morning dew. Out of the corner of my eye I see a slight movement in the blueness of the pool. The intake snorts like an enraged rhino ready to attack as the water drifts slowly in circles around the deep end of the pool. The green of the small object contrast sharply with the aqua blue of the very cold water.
Clinging desperately to a tiny piece of leaf floating silently in the pool is a huge spider. Any port in the storm comes to my mind. I see the spider and know he has hope that his day will be better. Without any human intervention what fate could have befallen on this hairy creature? He could have been snatched up by an anole for a breakfast treat, chased by the cat or squashed beneath the sole of a size 9 Merrill.
Today my mind and thoughts are swayed to a happier place. A place where there is hope and a chance to dance with the magic of living. And a big hairy spider has been given another day to enjoy.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
They are packed up so nicely and placed at the curb in their shiny translucent blue bags. It's as if they are just waiting for that bus to come along and take them to a vacation land where life is beautiful all the time. I wonder where they really go - these bottles and cans rinsed and cleaned and decapped? Pieces of our lives once used but barely thought about except for their resting place along the side of the road - waiting - just waiting for the next moment in time.
Does their life begin again as something new and use full? Or does reality smash the bubble and they are dumped as before into a heap of trash and waste to sit and rot and smell and scar the land on which we live? So many and's so many questions left inside my mind. And then I compare the life of cans, bottles and glass containers so perfectly placed in the soft blue bag by the curb - waiting for hands to lift them away to that of children, people and animals.
We toss them away less than the garbage we place by the curb. We hide them, dump them or just neglect them and life goes on. We take such meticulous care of used containers but human life has little meaning and little empathy. Animals are even farther down the scale of justice.
The brand new year blossoms and the commercials of abused animals flicker upon every channel I surf. The headlines on the front page portray the victims and lost souls and those that choose to take a life with no regret and consequences. My mind is bombarded with the pain and suffering and tears become my cloak of fog.
I sit here and stare at the soft blue bag holding the remains of yesterdays dinner waiting to become new again but what of loved ones who cannot speak or smile or hug away our sadness? A burning emptiness smolders in my soul. I watch the sun rise slowly above the tree tops and contemplate priorities and life as it is. Trapped behind these bars that let light through but keep the love at a distance.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Florida is - well Florida is rather difficult to describe in terms that match the real world. A reality television show in Florida would certainly be a masterpiece right up there with 'The Three Stooges.' Florida is a mixture of sugar, salt and smoked fish or road kill on an all you can eat buffet.
My sister came down to Florida for a vacation and a visit with me - the older sister. The one that ended up in the Florida soup of mixed greens and other oddities. I warned her about life in paradise.
Rule number 1. Never stand in my front yard when the neighbor backs out of her driveway. When one has reached the wonderful ripe young age of 93 one should consider taking a taxi and ripping up that drivers license. Yes, my sweet senior neighbor has ended up parked in my front yard - just inches from the bedroom window.
Rule number 2. There are many of these people on the roads and they drive. Unfortunately they drive through plate glass windows when going to the bank - right through the front doors of a cafe that doesn't even have drive-thru. And there was that brand new beautiful bus stop on the corner of Rowan and Regency - that is no more. If you see one of these behind the wheel of a car - take a detour - get out of their way.
Rule number 3. Yes, you can go out and about in your nightie. (She did not believe me on this one)
We pulled into a parking space at the grocery store - driving on the correct side of the road, doing the speed limit, taking up only one parking space and who should appear but a night gown fashion icon.
My sister - doubter that she WAS begins to laugh as she watches the lady exit her car parked at a precarious angle dressed totally in her nightie. Pink flannel ankle length attire with little white flowers and slippers to match. Her purple purse was large and flopped like a dead rabbit against her well rounded butt tocks. A little too much for the world to see at 11 AM in the morning.
"You see, I was not telling tales," I say.
My sister is awash with tears as she cannot believe what is crossing the lot on this wonderful winter day in sunny Florida. Welcome to Paradise - where anything goes.
Three rules is enough to grasp on a first visit.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Happy New Year - prosperity - health and happiness. That would be my goal or New Year's Resolution. I completed last year's goal - so it's on to a brand new goal and continue to have last year's goal work.
Awesome vacation - awesome year actually. Not too happy about the foot issue erupting once again but I can deal with that.
Add a bucket of things to do before I die list. Paint the new year with lots of color and a positive attitude and surround myself with good vibes.