How do you spell relief?

It's been a rough week but given enough time and prayer, things have worked out just fine, like they always do. It's such a comfort (and relief) to know God's job is the world, and mine is just me-- and not the reverse. Me getting those confused can result in an really bad outcome--for everyone.
My sister and I made an appointment to look at "alternative housing" for mom, and one with a higher level of care. We have not discussed this with her, so don't go global with this yet (ie. shut yer trap 'til I tell ya) , but I will say, how do you spell relief? Assisted Living. Mom was just not there earlier last year with her initial move, but she's screamin' downhill towards it now, and my sister and I get that. Big time.
Thank heaven for my sister, since doing this alone would be a lot harder (and doing it with my brother would just be exponentially impossible--to the tenth power--but that's another story.) We've gotten the ball rolling and though my sister and I both feel sadness, mine is less than hers--right now. What do I know about feelings? They can change at any time and usually do, when you least expect them to. Sort of a sadness hit and run. Or, a teary ten car pile up. My sister calls it the "Big Boo Hoo". She had hers Saturday morning and I am still waiting for mine--if it happens at all. Sometimes I just don't puddle up... maybe because I journal it out here. Don't know. A friend I discussed this with told me I was "tougher than my sister".... and all I could think of was "well.... gee... thanks for sharing". I felt like an old battle axe for the rest of the afternoon. She may be right....I just couldn't figure out how that sounded the least bit like a compliment exactly, thank you very much.
Mom's sutures are out but she still wouldn't get out Saturday to the "Hair Hut"--she said she still looked too bad. I a-l-m-o-s-t popped off that clean hair might be an improvement, but I didn't. Sometimes I can hardly resist throwing gasoline on a spark.

Communication

Why is communicating so hard? Why is saying what you need to say, appropriately, such a freaking mine field? I have learned that when in doubt, writing it down is the best course for me. And if it's a really emotionally "loaded" conversation, to put it on a 3x5 card a head of time, take it with me, and use the card!! DO NOT GO FREE FORM , here. Stick to the contents of the card. If I go "off card", I can promise you something might fly out of my mouth that I will later regret. I don't care if I look like a complete nerd with my card--if it works for me, I don't give a rats rear what somebody else thinks. I also like writing it down since I can always go back, edit, punch up, lower the voltage, etc. And reading it out loud to yourself is really helpful. You won't believe some of the stuff we say, not realizing how it sounds. We are too busy saying it to "hear". Once it's said and is out in the atmosphere, there are no do overs as we all well know. I also like the 24-48 hour rule. It's fine to do your card or cards, as the case may be--just sit on them for the 24-48 hour time period. Often times, more information is revealed that can drastically alter your card's contents. Or, you may not even end up needing your card. Helloooo, shredder.

Boundaries...got any?

(This is an old post, but one of my favorites.  Enjoy, and if the shoe fits, wear it. :)


Since this is my blog, I get to talk about whatever I want so if this one isn't your cup of tea, OK, fine. But here goes: have you ever had someone keep on ragging you about something that 1) you'd already discussed 2) they didn't get you to do what they wanted you to do so they circled the wagons and tried again 3) simply could not step back and recognize that saying it one more time was not going to impact you one bit 4) that you are not them ?  I've come to understand that people who don't respect your boundaries are sending you a very clear message: your boundaries are inconvenient and slow them down getting what they want.  Your needs?  They don't matter.

Which brings me to my favorite lecture: Boundaries. Boundaries are like hula hoops. Slip one on over your head and hold it waist high. It's a cozy fit and yet has a fair amount of room. Now, here's the good part: everything on the inside of the hula hoop back towards you, is YOURS and YOUR BUSINESS. Everything outside your hula hoop is NOT.                      
 It's fascinating to me how many people just cannot or choose not, to get this.  Especially family.  Oh, Lordy....they are the worst offenders.  They think that somehow because they have an opinion, that it's their job to tell you how to do your life, what's best for you, what you should do, because they want you to do what they want you to do. Seldom does it occur to them that this might be disrespectful to you and your intelligence, arrogant on their part, manipulative, not what YOU want to do, and "not inside their hula hoop".  Nope. They just want what they want. And they try to make YOU wrong for not doing what they think you should do.

 People who are continually disrespectful of my boundaries won't see a whole lot of me. They are entitled to their opinions, thoughts, and feelings---and if they continue to disregard my boundaries, they'll still be having their opinions, thoughts and feelings--just without ME. When people show you or tell you who they are, believe them.   

One o' dem days....

Man....today has really been one. If my hair wasn't already short, I swear I think I'd have pulled a Brittany Spears by now and shaved my head. No matter what, today was just not working. It was a hurry up and wait--everywhere I turned. An hour wait at the doctor's office-- then a test film was not sent--that I had to go get, and w-a-i-t-- while they got it--at another hospital. And then I dropped it back by the surgeon's office. Next, I waited another 30 minutes trying to get a car title changed, requiring a call to Austin, and me sitting aimlessly waiting while the mess was sorted out. This was my third try on the car title and I finally got it done. And the rent a Yacht? Yep, waited there all three times, too, but at least got something smaller.
The reality for me? Sometimes life is just not going to flow my way-- no matter what--- so I might as well laugh and roll with it. In the past, by now, I'd have thrown a rod and somebody would be bleeding or dismembered. I mean it. Blood and guts.
Today I know not to get too hungry, angry, lonely, or tired (HALT) and if I do, I need to stop what I'm doing right then-- and take care of myself. It sounds like such a no brainer. It isn't. You'd be surprised to see what happens when you actually do this. YOU DON'T ACT OUT. Stuff that previously made you murderous, now makes you laugh or when you wake up from a much needed nap, no longer even bugs you. I'm telling you, it works. And don't give me all that malarkey about "well...I'm at work". It works there, too. I've done it. Close your office door & chill for fifteen minutes. Go eat lunch. Go sit outside. Walk to your car and pretend you are running away--that's my all time favorite.

Which also brings me to telling people "No". No one knows better than you do, how to take care of you. What you think, how you feel, what you like and what you don't. Other people may think they know what's best for you but they don't. They aren't you. They only know what's best for them. DO NOT be hood winked by these crafty people. Take care of yourself and if you do not feel like doing something, just say no. Don't do it to please someone else. You'll just end up mad and resentful. "No" is a lot easier to say and it's a complete sentence. And don't cave if you have to say it more than once. Just grab your keys and keep walking. Works every time.

31 years ago

Thirty one years ago today, I got married to someone I thought I loved. Notice I said thought. I had no clue what love was back then. I thought I did--but I didn't. I do now. There is no one on the planet I'd rather be with, standing hip to hip with in a foxhole, than my partner. He is my rock. He is also the funniest person I know. He can make me laugh harder, longer, and can make me madder than a snake, all at the same time. That, folks, is talent. He is Ricky Ricardo to my Lucy; Fred Mertz to my Ethel. Lots of Fred Mertz.
His nick name is Mr. Activity--he's always got to be doing something. And he has "costumes"--for everything. He has his "hunting" costumes--several-- depending on if it's hot or cold, and what he's hunting. Then there's his Going to the Ranch hick costume, that comes complete with the occasional "howdy, ma'am", as he packs. His yard work get up is a family favorite and legend, now that he finally retired the old favorite Target shorts that were Dayglo green. The boys still scream over those. And last but not least, there is his Snack Man costume. That would be the late evening, watching TV in the kitchen "costume", and I'll just let you figure that one out yourself.
He is the most generous and wisest guy I know. He seldom reveals himself to most people and in some ways, I'm grateful for that. Nobody really knows what I have, except me. And if I had it to do all over again, I'd pick him again. And again. And AGAIN. Lucky me.

Overkill ..... mabye??

I just returned from trading in my Soup can for a larger car. Several people commented that if someone hit me, in the Soup can, I might not walk away so point taken, and a swaparoo just happened. Wanna guess what I got? A freakin' Land Yacht. A total old lady mobile....like I need matching patent leather shoes and a big old purse to drive it. You should see this behemoth. It takes up half the driveway and the minute Bruce sees it, the party's gonna start. I can just hear it now...."nice ride, baby".
Welllllll, here he is now, laughing as predicted. He just volunteered to go "drive my boat". I was supposedly upgraded to a luxury vehicle, and all that translates to is a Whale Boat, minus the harpoons. Now, it does have seat warmers--if I can just find the button. I popped the trunk and opened the gas tank trying to find them, so I may have to go read the manual. And another thing...I think it's a fat lady car because when you turn it off, the seat scoots back automatically as f-a-r back as it can go. Whaaaaaat? Like I can't get out where the seat is normally?? I beg your pardon--I CAN. The good news? That car is a tank and I'll easily walk away if someone hits ME. I'm just not so sure about what will happen to them, though. Whoa.
The reality is, since I'm likely to be driving it for several weeks, it may just have to become an acquired taste. A BIG ONE.

A mom's manipulation....food!

I just had to get my mom thing on today and see Crashman, so I lured him over with the promise of dinner--one of his favorites. Pork chalupas with beans wrapped in a warm, soft flour tortilla, all doctored up with grated cheese, salsa, chopped green onion, and guacamole. He was a no go on the sour cream as he's trying to keep his girlish figure. He's in the kitchen now snarfing down his third one. When it gets cold outside, he usually calls and asks me to make him chili or chalupas, and since they had those big old pork roast things on sale, w-e-l-l, out came the crock pot yesterday, amidst all the other drama. And he chased the chalupas with some cake bites from Bruce's cousin, Addie Beth, who dropped off a "chocolate fix" this afternoon. I can hear him loading up a "travel pack" to take home, since tomorrow we might have snow. And you never know when you'll need a chalupa fix. I'm thinking it'll probably happen about 10pm tonight while he's watching TV. Snow and chalupas? Well, yeah.
I don't know what it is about seeing him or Benji, but sometimes I just have to. They just make me laugh and want to squeeze them. And I love how they smell...it's a man smell but also very Harris. Just deeeelish. I can even smell them in their clothes. Occasionally, I'll run a load of laundry for either of them, fold them, and there it is....their smell. Everyone has one.... and theirs is just the best. Guess it's a mom thing but I've always been a big smeller.

I went by and did mom's suture care today and she looked even more swollen, and her knee was puffy--it took a pretty good hit, too, though no stitches. I told her I'd remove her sutures for her on Friday and she asked me "can you do that ?" and I told her "yes"... Luckily, I had my back to her so I could indulge in a big old eye roll. I had lots of practice on Brian's right arm when Parkland didn't get all of them out. Ahhhh, the good old days.

Avatar...omg

Oooooo, lordy the fun just continues here at Fun City. My brother took mom to church this morning and she proceeded to slip and hit her head, right between her eyes, on the entry doors (the big old heavy ones, wouldn't you know) at St. Michael's. He called me and I met him at Presbyterian ER to get her stitched up. Once I determined she was OK, and told him what to do, I left Superman to handle all the details. Hey...this was his mess--not mine. I do enough mopping up as it is, thank you very much. It doesn't take both of us to wait with her and if I know him, he'd have tried to dump it on me anyway. That's his usual MO--he just vaporizes. If he sees an out, he's g-o-n-e. But not this time.

I just took tortilla soup (second batch) and white chicken chili over to her and some Neosporin and hydrogen peroxide to do her suture care tomorrow. I swear, she looks just like one of the characters from Avatar--all blue and green with a flat swollen place between her eyes, that widens out her nose by her eyes. She's going to look really snazzy tomorrow when her eyes turn black and blue underneath and the swelling amps up. She's been icing it from the start but you can only do so much--especially at 82. I'm grateful it wasn't worse because it sure could have been. Holy cow.

Comfort food

I just finished getting my cook on. My friend who lost her husband is needing some TLC and food is an area that right now, she just can't handle. She can barely get some stuff down her throat so I went straight for the easy sliders and stuff her mom made us as kids. Her mom was a sensational down home type cook and the one thing I told her I wanted when I graduated from High School, was a collection of her recipes-- all my faves. And I still have them to this day. They might look a little tired, but I can still read them and that's what counts. So, out came the pots and pans and on went the oven.
I made a whole slew of her mom's famous oatmeal raisin cookies and while they baked, I made her a big old pot of tortilla soup. No, her mom didn't make us tortilla soup but when everything hits the crapper, there's just something about tortilla soup that makes sense out of the world again. And if you throw on the chopped up ripe avocado, the tortilla chips, cheese, and even a dab of sour cream you will sleep good even when a freakness is upon you. It is the cure for everything. I'd taken her some more homemade pimento cheese yesterday, and that's another thing from our childhood we loved. Her mom's was just deadly.
I knew I already had two frozen Wild Rice, Chicken, and Artichoke casseroles in the freezer that I'd made earlier so I grabbed one and followed the recipe's directions on how to cook it from frozen, and it looked fine. And when I sprinkled grated cheese on top of the toasted bread crumbs and ran it back in to melt on the top, let's just say it took a hell of a lot of will power not to stick a fork in for a "taste test". Truth be told, I'd already wolfed down three cookies. I'm sure that's a huge surprise. Hey...you can't make cookies and not eat some. It's against the law.

So, din-din has been delivered and my friend has headed to Love Field to pick up her daughter and son-in-law, who came in to be with her tonight. I'm heading out to dinner 'cause I've already cooked dinner, and I'm not doing it again. No way.

My take on Tiger

I personally have never met the man. I will say this: I'm just not buying it. He may be sorry. He should be. I'm just not sure what he's really sorry for--doing it or getting caught. When you take those wedding vows, hopefully you are paying attention and you mean what you are saying. You don't get an out for being a professional athlete with gobs of money. You don't even get an out for being an ass (Donald Trump). Tiger's affect (facial expression) was just way too flat for me....and the eyes are the real deal for me and I got zippo from him. Maybe some shame when he faced his mom 'cause if you aren't feelin' it then, you are either a sociopath or the devil himself, but other than that, I didn't see much emoting. And I don't mean tears.....I'm talking real honest to goodness contrition. You know it when you see and and I just didn't see any.

And hats off to Elin for not rescuing him. That deals o-v-e-r. She's outta there. One woman? Maybe. And that's a big ole maybe. 12 or 14 or however many he's been fooling around with? No way. See ya. Wouldn't even want to be in the same room with ya. That's goes way beyond betrayal. And when your mistresses got pissed when they find out they weren't the only one, that's down right hilarious. Sick and hilarious. Gals, you just got a dose of what you dished out. No wonder you didn't like it.

I always wondered how Tiger could idolize his dad so much and not hate him, too. His dad was such a controlling factor in his life and I wonder if all this acting out isn't part of a deep rage that had to come out somehow. Human beings are just fascinating to me. And that's just how I see it.

My Soup can

I think it's official--at least it looks that way in my front yard. Spring is on the way. I have a gabillion red robins in the front yard eating berries, I've already had a bunny sighting across the street, and the yards are all greening up, so all is good in the world. The bunny is sort of white--I guess as white as you can be if you live outside--and has charcoal markings on his ears, face and tail. He lives a block over but loves to escape and come on over where the fun people live. I think the c'mon factor is all the decorative cabbage and kale one neighbor has in his yard. That bunny must think he's hit a big old free salad bar. The only part I dislike about hosting the birds berry-a-thon is the after effects. Man, do they make a mess.

I picked up my rent car Wednesday and it is hilarious. They apologized for not having a full size car--they had an unexpected rental right before I got there so I got to go to another location to pick up the car. They told me they would bring me another one if I wanted to swap it out. Let's just say my car is small and RED--and sounds like it has a sewing machine under the hood. It has 4 tires, a steering wheel, and smells like a cheap hotel room--clean-- but just with that weird fake smell. Sort of like a permanent air freshener that you eventually get used to. I love my little soup can. It does exactly what I need it to do--it drives. Case closed. I'm happy. No word yet on when my car will be ready. No worries.

And now for Tiger...I can hardly wait. My money is on Elin not showing up. Let him dig his own way out. I personally hope she walks and takes him to the cleaners on her way out. You go, girl.

Hot chocolate....here I come

Whew. The deed is done and it wasn't near as gnarly as I was prepared for it to be. Gals, if you want to know the details, email me and I'll give you the full 411 on it but in sensitivity to some others (Bruce throws up or faints) , I'll leave off the specifics here. I do have to have the spot removed and it has a 90% chance of being benign. If it turn out that it's malignant, they'll remove the spot and because it's so tee tiny, that'll take care of it. I got Dr. Baker (my radiologist) to show me my pic's and asked a few questions, and I hit the door. Glad that's done. I already know who I want to do it (Dr. Laidley-breast surgeon at Med. City) so essentially that's that. Drama over. I was, however, very impressed with Presby's Breast Center--man, the changing area and waiting "lounge" looked like the changing area at the Four Seasons, minus the massage therapists and boy, I sure could have used one. The staff was great, efficient and nice. We gabbed almost the whole way through my procedure. One of us got quiet...wanna guess who? Yeah...that'd be me. But, it did not hurt so that was nice. REAL NICE.

Ok...now, while I was off duty, some guy flies a plane into the IRS building in Austin? Whaaaaat? I leave my post for one hour and all hell breaks loose. Geeze.

Let's start the chant now....

Ti-ger...Ti-ger...Ti-ger...Oh, man I can hardly control myself. He's set to "speak" on Friday --to apologize. Wonder if Elin will be there? I hope not. I hope he man's up and does this all by himself. Shoot...he got in trouble all by himself so surely he can do this alone. He's already made sure the media will not be present and that those he speaks to will only be close friends and family. What I'll be interested to see is if there's any honest show of contrition and humility on his part. IF he's been in a 12 step program for sex addiction, which I honestly hope he has, then he may have a fighting chance. Otherwise, Dude....save your breath.
I always enjoy reading people's body language in situations like this. I don't really read it as much as I watch to see what looks and feels really authentic, and what looks like a bunch of showboating...you know what I'm talking about. Does it ring true? And if he shows one ounce of defiance or defensiveness, he's toast. Once the media sees his apology, if it's defiant, he can just pack and head for another solar system 'cause that's the only place he'll get any peace or (piece!).
Sorry...I just couldn't resist.

I think I'd LOTS rather be me tomorrow with my test, than Tiger on Friday. Whoa.

Stakin' his claim

My sister called last night to tell me her latest Hudson story. It seems he came by yesterday with his Aunt SuSu, while Go-Go (my sister's grandmother name) was tutoring one of her students. Hudson's not real sure exactly what his Go-Go does--he only knows it looks like a lot of fun. And it does. Since she tutors kids with learning differences, she has all kinds of fun stuff to keep their attention so that learning is fun vs the chore it always has been in the past. You name it--she's got it. And a refrigerator full of kid's snacks to boot.

Hudson went straight up to his grandmother's office and poked his head around the door yesterday, only to find Go-Go with another man--a student named Tyler. He and Tyler were introduced and Hudson immediately asked "what's he doing here"? My sister did her best to explain that they were "working" but Hudson wasn't buying. Nope. No way, Jose'. All he could tell was what they were doing looked a LOT like fun, he wanted to play, and that his Go-Go was a cheatin' dog. She was two timin' him with Tyler. Even sitting briefly on his Go-Go's lap did little to soften his bristle towards Tyler. When he left, he turned to both of them and said without even a trace of a smile, "I'll be back tomorrow." Looks like there's a new Sheriff in town.

To sum up my day...

Here it is in a nutshell: I finally got scheduled for the test I need to have on Thursday, at 9am. The nurse who scheduled me sounds like someone I would love and just happens to have appointed herself as my nurse. Go, team. My radiologist who read my mamo and sono will do my test, and I really liked him as well. Cute, funny, and we hope with v-e-r-y gentle hands. Can I get an amen on that. A sweet loving friend brought me lunch, flowers, and dessert today since I am without wheels, and am feeling a little like someone punched me due to the bumper car event of this morning. So, all in all, life is just pretty darn good.

The insurance lady made me laugh when she called this afternoon. She told me a hilarious story about dementia and how when her grandmother had it, her grandmother went to a small town store and tried to pay with Monopoly money. The lady behind the counter never missed a beat, took the play money, and then called the family explaining what had happened. They quickly brought over the real $12 and all had a good laugh. People are just so great. To me, there's just a funny in everything, if you look for it. The other funny today?? I accidentally sat on Muffin. He didn't think it was funny, but I sure did.

Bad jew jew

Man....you do NOT want to get near me.....I've got the b-a-d jew jew going on. This morning, I left early to go get my fasting lab work drawn and that means black coffee only--if any--but that wasn't the problem, though it might have helped somewhat. I hit black ice, on NW Hwy, tried to stop and the rest was skiddin', smash up history. A man in a black Honda was trying to turn left, and let's just say I helped him a little. I did every thing I could to miss him but when your anti lock brakes clamp down, and you can't get off the ice, get ready 'cause it's going to be ugly. And it was. The good news? Neither of us was hurt and though our cars definitely took a hit, they can be repaired.

Which brings me to anti lock brakes....why do they call them that?? I don't get it. Not only do they make a God awful noise when you hit them but they feel and sound like they are locked up. Anti lock my butt. Enough said. The fun just continues. Woo hoo!

Think Pink

I got the ever lovin' pants scared off of me today. My doctor sent me for "further tests" and got me worked in--today. As a nurse, I know what that means and I can also tell when it's a courtesy and when it's a "today" deal. Luckily, so far, things have swung my way though I can tell you, I think God must be really tired of hearing from me and some of my closest pals. We have "chatted" literally all day long...OK...more like I was chatting...or chattering. The strange part? I had this inner gut feeling that it would all work out OK and that HE had me. And I felt really calm.
And then I started in on the second guessing, asking myself if I was just in denial or if I really did feel like it was going to be OK....you now what I mean....when you start head trippin' on yourself. My head is never a safe neighborhood and not someplace to go alone....I might mug myself.

Anyway, I still have one last test to get scheduled for and complete, but so far, things look good and it looks like I'll be blogging away here for a l-o-n-g time. This last test does not sound like much fun (who thinks this stuff up, anyway?) but I'm gonna getter done as soon as they can schedule me and then see what shakes out. And here is my solemn vow: I WILL have a Starbucks hot chocolate afterward to celebrate --with WHIPPED CREAM. I may not eat dinner--but I WILL have one.

Noise....and gore....see ya

I'm just going to go ahead and say it: I'm having noise issues. Constant clammmmmmmmmer or even loud background TV noise... drives... me... nuts. Sometimes I like to cook with background Smooth Jazz or Watercolors- (channel 851 & 850) and for the first 5-7 minutes or so, it's all real good. By the 10-15 minute mark, I'm going into agitation mode--a freakness is coming. Once I kill the music, I'm back to normal. Maybe I'm just easily overstimmed--I think maybe that's it because I feel the same way in huge crowds with high noise levels, and if it's a big hen party where everyone is screeching, I will hit the door running. Maybe it's being in my 50's--hell....I don't know. All I know is, if you want me to go home, turn up the volume--on anything. I'm a quiet loving gal--no question about it.

And now for a quick side bar on the Olympics: what in the world were they thinking showing that video of the luge guy's death? Gore much, people? Hello...he has a family that just might find that action horrendously horrifying and unspeakably callous, and in slow-mo??? Well, yeah....that really helped a lot. Breaking it down, frame by frame, for the impact was sheer genius, no?? Yes, they yanked it of the air after showing it, but his family still knew they'd shown it, and his father was even asked if he had seen it. Please....has our "need to know" super ceded our common sense, decency, and compassion? I guess it has. Luckily for me, I missed it---I've seen enough gore to last me a lifetime and wouldn't have watched anyway. G-a-g. I guess it's no different than rubber necking on the highway...and I don't get into that either. Yeesh.

BC.....? (before computers)

What in the world did we do before computers? How did we possibly manage our lives, communicate, and have ANY FUN WHATSOEVER? And worms or viruses had a totally different meaning way back then...you know, before fire when we dragged our knuckles on the ground and clubbed each other. Wait....we still do that.....the clubbing part.
Wonder what the next big "thing" will be that changes the world, like computers have. I guess we could call Bill Gates and ask him. After all, since he's 1-1, he's probably either inventing it or knows who is.

Sometimes I think about how plugged in we are vs just a few decades back. Satellites....and drones to fight wars with a joy stick, half a world away. Sure does change my concept of "going to the office" when those guys zip into their jumpsuits and "go to work". In a lot of ways, I like it a lot better, but would really like to see zero need for their skills.

With all of this technology, it sure seems to me we could fix air traffic control and health care . Now, don't knee jerk right into the money aspect--we have it. We just need to talk Bill and Warren out of theirs, to fix this stuff. Then all the drug companies would have to fork over all their dough, as well as all the Wall Street boys with their big fat bonuses, and Banks and Credit Card companies---- that should just about do it. At least for a while anyway. Over simplistic--maybe. But just think about it. The old Robin Hood concept (not the school one--the other one--in the tights).

Then we clean out Congress and replace it with smart, solution oriented moms--you heard me--MOMs. The no BS kind. If they can deal with kids, they could whip this damn country in shape with half their brain tied behind them and be done by lunch. Get all the zipper weasels out-- and put in women. Case closed.

BUT NOT SARAH PALIN. She's really a man anyway. You heard it here first.

Sister for sale--Free

Well.....I just returned from my errand of mercy. My sister was supposed to go check on mom this morning--her idea. Since I hadn't gotten a "report" by about 1:15pm, I had a really sneaky suspicion she never went. Dontcha just hate having really good intuition when you know you are gonna have to go do someone elses dirty work, since if you don't, your conscience is going to bug you senseless? And definitely when you already know the news is not gonna be good, and it's your mom, so now you have to go......welcome to my world. Come sit over here by me. Ahhhhhh. So I went. And, of course it wasn't good news and, yes, I'm glad I went. Her power was totally off, including her phone and it didn't occur to her to use her cell phone. Swell.

I walked right into her building since the electricity was off--a big fat zero on the security. Once the second door closed behind me, it was darker than God's pocket. I mean it.... I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I can only imagine if mom had gotten locked out somehow...hell...it was scary to me and I'm not a wuss. Anyway, I pounded on her front door and told her it was me, since finding the doorbell a la braille wasn't working real well and I couldn't see to get my key in the lock. Here's the wild part: she had been sitting in her TV room, with no heat and no TV on, in her robe, nightie, & slippers for no telling how long, I guess waiting for someone to come find her and rescue her. And she hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch. Nuttin'.
I got her taken care of and out of there but it just made me wonder about all the other little old people who don't have family or friends to check on them. Or even injured people...I guess as long as you have a cell or remember to use it, you are probably OK....maybe.

And my sister?? She is soooo busted and she knows it. Every one of her excuses was just lame-o and she knew I knew it--'cause I told her so. Sisters. Mine's for sale.

Oh, baby...ain't this grand

Well, helloooooo Fairy Land. And thank goodness for electricity. Ours is on and that's the best news I could have today. Our wonderful Maria called and I could tell she was totally relieved when I told her to stay home. Shoot... no job's (nothing is) worth crashing your car over. I remember back in my hospital days, a certain manager always acted like suuuuch a martyr anytime there was bad weather. She practically nailed herself to the cross --that was always just her total MO--and several of us used to sit in my office drinking coffee, laughing, & taking turns being her, acting out her schtik. I never said we were nice-- but boy, we sure were fun. We would laugh until we cried... Ahhh, the good old days.

I just looked out the window, across the street, to see the neighbors two dogs out in the snow. The yellow lab was fine but their beagle just sank. He just now figured out he has to keep jumping not to totally disappear. Their skinny old cat is out there & looks flat out miserable. Tom and Hank, my two block boy favorites, just walked by (in the street) with their mom, Kelly. They are the ones that fell in love a few years back, with my plug in Jack-o-lantern and used to redecorate my front porch daily, moving him around. Kelly was worried I'd care. I told her they could do whatever they wanted with it, including take it home. We've been pals ever since. The bad news? Their house is on the market. With the real estate market down, they are hoping to move up. Rats.

Lots of trees and tree branches are down around us. Should make for an interesting and busy weekend. One guy a block or so over was already out with his chain saw this morning. That's a l-i-t-t-l-e too type A for me, thank you. Have another cup of coffee, dude.

A snowy Texas funeral

Bruce's Aunt Mina would have loved her funeral this afternoon. It was snowy and beautiful, and when we arrived, there was no power at the church--hence, no heat The whole neighborhood's power was off, so we all kept our coats on, huddled up, and sent her out in a big way. At the reception afterward, we were all laughing about how she would have loved checking out who made the effort to come and who decided to bag it, due to the weather. She'd have been taking names for sure. But the best was when her adult grandson, Jeffery, asked the church reception ladies where the hot chocolate was. They told him it was right with the hot coffee--they never missed a beat. I love older Texas ladies....they can just roll with anything. Even no power and no heat. It was the perfect funeral for Aunt Mina--beautiful and offbeat, with a big dose of humor. She'd have loved it. Not a bad way to check out, when you think about it.

It's time for the big reveal...

When I received this the other day, I knew I had to post it here. Though these are not mine, they might as well be since that's how much I love them. They are my sister's grands--or at least the ones she has so far--and since I don 't have any yet, her's are mine, too. Have you ever seen more angelic faces.......shuuudup 'cause I know you haven't. They are Hadley, Avery, and Hudson. You've already heard about all of them so I just felt it was time for the big reveal. Avery at 5 weeks has grown a ton and now is sporting a fetching pair of chipmunk cheeks. If I don't see her often enough, she looks different every time I see her. The other day as I played with her, she looked like she was doing baby Tai Chi...she was rhythmically waving her hands around until she smacked herself in the face. She didn't cry--she just looked at me like I'd done it.

Hadley is the wild woman and current two year old human frenzy. For her birthday in January, I gave her a magic wand that makes noise and is waaaay cool, and a fairy princes head doo-dad with these pretty long dangly multi colored ribbons. It just screamed GIRL all over it with the pretty ribbons and flowers,in beeeee-u-tiful colors. When I took her to a mirror and showed her how she looked, she gave me the exact same withering look Wiggles gave me the year I bought him a purple velvet collar with bells on it, for Christmas. My sister practically had to be resuscitated she was laughing so hard. Well......I tried. Now the magic wand? My sister got to eat dirt on that one. Hadley went nuts over it and ran around putting spells on everyone. It made noise like a magic wand should, and even came with pre written spells in case you can't come up with your own. Nice, huh? Hadley is sooo funny that just watching her is entertaining.

Now, Hudson.... Hudson, Hudson, Hudson. He is my dream boat and all round fun buddy. He can do absolutely no wrong in my eyes simply because he's PERFECT. He's my naked Candyland and computer playing pal who just puts the fun in everything. I have two of his school pictures right by my sink so I see him first thing every morning and last thing at night. I also have him on a special coffee cup I got the year after he was born that shows him in a T shirt that says King of the Little People.
Truth be told, I couldn't love any of them any more if I tried. Wonder what it' ll (and yes, I know it'll is not a word but it is to me) be like to have my own grands?? I'll probably just explode.

What I know today...

Sorry if this is a downer but the death count continues. And between suicides, accidents, and old age, the count is now close to 10 or so and growing. Wow...just a good reminder that it sure does make sense to "have your bags packed" so to speak, since none of us ever know when our ticket is punched (unless you punch it yourself and even then, gee...who knows how that works.) Anyway, I'm looking at each day with a little bit sharper eye and a deeper concentration. I am focusing on the things I choose to do--and really looking at what needs to happen that's within my power to make happen. In other words, doing my job, my part--the legwork that's mine.
If I've made a commitment, did I keep it? If I said I'd visit a cat, did I do it? And yes, I did yesterday. I called old DC and out of the bushes he came trotting, looking surprisingly better. My diagnosis is, he's moving right along in the grief process and is kind of a 'ho. As long as he's getting fed, being given some treats and the occasional brushing, he's sort of a loaner anyway and will cope just fine. I guess maybe that goes along with being a strictly outdoor guy, unlike Muff, who is a total wimp.

Which brings me to karma....bumpy segue I admit, but that's just where my brain went. Do you believe in what goes around, comes around....you get back what you dish out? Whoa...I sure do and the older I get, the more I see it play out. (I don't know why anybody wants to be younger 'cause you miss all the good stuff. Once you've gotten a little mileage under your hood, you see stuff.) Anyway, I've watched someone I don't care for wreck havoc (I can't give out too many details since it involves our family business and our not so wonderful judicial system) over and over again, and now the tide seems to have turned somewhat, and not of our making. This person who has done irreparable damage, lost her own daughter last week, to a blood clot. I wouldn't wish that kind of loss and pain on anyone--not even her--and it sure is interesting to see what happens when you take the high road, because it's the right one to take, even when you'd love to get down in the gutter and go for it like a bunch of old alley cats.
Ten or fifteen years ago, I'd have probably done just that--if not physically, then mentally. I'd have ripped this woman from one end to the other (in my head) and sacrificed my own serenity and happiness in the process. And all that would have done is let her win. As it is, I feel so sorry for her. Having been through the events with Crashman this summer, and the thoughts and fears that he might not live, a brand new sense of compassion arose for someone I don't really care for. I have been able to put this person and her entire family in my prayers daily. As a mom, I got w-a-y too close to where she is now, almost losing someone irreplaceable to me. I'm no saint here and that's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying if you pay attention, you might just get the lesson you are supposed to get. In my experience, God just keeps giving me the same lesson, over and over until I get it. He may dress it up a little differently, but it's the same lesson, when I look closely at it. And since the big lessons are generally painful, I'd just as soon get the lesson on the first go round. It tends to just amp up in the pain department, each time I have to repeat it.
And that's what I know today.

Dottie Cat

Well, I have great news to report. Atmos rang our doorbell at 10:45pm and re lit everything so it's toasty and we have hot water. Much to be grateful for...all it takes is just one of these minor little events to remind me just how great I have it. Heat? Check. Hot water? Check. Food? Check. And the Saints won, so woo hoo on that. Frankly, I would have been fine if the Colts had won but the Saints win just made for such a better rags to riches type story. And Drew Brees is cuter than Peyton Manning anyway. Seriously. So that's that.

I have assigned myself the task of Cat therapist for my friend's cat (the one whose husband died). She is highly allergic to cats so Dottie (gender confused male cat--they thought he was a girl until they took HIM to have HIM spayed. Uh, no...that would be neutered.) Anyway, since her husband took care of Dottie, I am going to pay him a condolence call. I'm taking kitty treats, maybe some catnip, and a brush since in his grief, his fur hasn't been looking to good. Depression will do that...suddenly you just don't care how you look --especially to the other neighborhood cats. Plus, he's getting pretty old so grooming is just not top of his list anymore. He's a strictly outside guy since my friend is so allergic but he has his own cat condo in the tool room, complete with a kitty door and a heater. His cat crib is pretty deeee-luxe. If it doesn't quit raining, this visit may have to wait until tomorrow. Getting wet was not part of the deal.

Gas update

Nope...we don't have any, and neither does anybody for about 6 blocks. And with two little electric heaters going full blast, I am pretending "we are camping out"--in Antarctica. The puppies are snuggled in here, too, but not in their dog bed, oh, no. They are asleep in the big fluffy white chairs with fleece blankets--seriously. I am watching The Who at the Super Bowl half time show, with my long fleece coat on, drinking ice tea. I know that last part is weird but Snapple Diet Ice Tea is my drug of choice and the coat is very necessary. Especially in view of the ice tea part.
There's a coffee clatch of Atmos trucks in the church parking lot down from us and my assistant has headed down there for some scoopage. Channel 8 interviewed him earlier but I doubt he made it to the big screen at 6pm, much to his chagrin. Turns out the gas problem started last night about 10 pm. My assistant has just returned with the news that "they're still working on it". Gee...really??? They then plan to go door to door relighting people's pilots, if needed. A late date with Atmos...I can hardly wait.

Well, hell...

At least it would be warmer there. I awoke this morning to dogs barking and a brisk 60 degrees in our house. As I went to let the puppies out, I grabbed my coat and gave the thermostat a big old shove. Fine. No response. Nuttin'. Next came a lovely wake up call to my partner that we had no heat. After checking the breakers, we thought things might be OK but boy, were we wrong. Now, as I sit typing this, I am clutching my coffee for warmth, in my coat, over my pj's, waiting for the Atmos Energy man. And a second Atmos Energy truck just went flying--past our house. Notice I said past--with his lights blinking. Once again....aw, hell. And they said we couldn't start a fire in the fireplace either. And maybe that does make sense since the gas seems to be the problem but awwwww, hellllll. It's cold.
If this nonsense continues, I may just have to spend the day in bed, under the covers with my puppies, watching TV and reading. Bruce wants me to call our neighbor and ask "if she has gas"...somehow I think I need to rephrase that. Seems a little "personal", don't you think??

Helloooo, Henry

This morning I saw a dog I've never seen before. He was a Lucas Terrier, 12 weeks old, perfectly behaved (at least for now) and adorable. He is the first of his kind in Dallas, his mother was quick to tell me, so a big fat la ti da on that. His name was Henry, and he was every inch a Henry--right down to his snoring. Another friend had one of those yap-yap Yorkie's in her purse and though cute, I've just never been a Yorkie fan and when my friend told me her other one had died from falling down the stairs at her house, that sealed the deal for me. No thank you. This one's name was Daisy --please....Daisy?? I don't think so.

One of my favorite people has an Airedale named Bebop who is hilarious and as big as a Smart car. When she comes over to visit, she hooks his leash around our Adirondack bench out front and he snoozes in the grass. Sister and Wigman would probably like Bebop to come in but Muffin would totally stroke if he did. He can barely tolerate Sister as it is and one look at Bebop might cause Muff an early demise

Another friend has two dogs, Rosie, who is some kind of mixey matchy something, and a rescue. I'm not sure who needs rescuing now more--my friend or Rosie. It seems Rosie has some anxiety issues and chews doors. Seriously. She calls Rosie her ten pound termite and has already replaced two doors, at her ex husband's beach house. You go, Rosie girl. He was a total t*** anyway, so cheap hollow core doors here we come. Her other dog is....well....a closet dog. No, he's not gay...he just lives in her closet with her clothes, and doesn't like to come out. Except to go outside--when it suits him. The rest of the time....well, you get the picture... which explains his name. Rat Bastard. I kid you not. The first time I heard my friend yell "Rat Bastard", I thought her ex had just driven up. Finally out of her closet slunk this smelly old thing, Rat Bastard. I jumped in a chair and lifted up my legs so he couldn't rub up against me and I like dogs. Just not this one.

The deal breaker for me with anything is if it smells. If it stinks, see ya. Wiggles and Sis can get a little doggy from time to time but I'm talking seriously stinky here....bad stinky. I don't get it with people whose animals smell....Hello.....got a sinus infection, do ya? Your olfactory not workin'?? There's just not enough dog shampoo in the world for that.

Oh, Happy Day!!

The sun is out. I'd almost forgotten what it looked like. And it's a right delightful afternoon since the little red-headed Jeffrey Dahmer wannabe across the street maid took his air horn away from him. Hmmm...I just thought I had a headache before. Now I really do. This is the same little boy who shot two of our windows with his BB gun. This is same BB gun that was only to be used in his backyard, I guess so he could only shoot out his own windows, instead of the neighbors. Unfortunately for him, his older sister ratted him out having seen him in the front yard, with Mr. BB gun. Boys will be boys....

My sister and I decided to be sweet girls and take mom out to lunch today at one of her favorite places, Highland Park Pharmacy. We figured it was not only a nice thing to do but even with her dementia, she couldn't possibly do anything inappropriate in a place full of kids and old people. And she did fine--she just had a minor problem with her chocolate "sofa" (soda). It had so much ice cream stuck around the top that when she tried to put in her straw, it practically erupted. The rapid eye contact between my sister and I was hilarious and mom kept right on working on her chocolate soda, totally oblivious to us. We mopped up the spill and got her a saucer (our waitress was new and still learning the ropes ) so lunch went fine. You just can't beat a good old tuna or chicken salad on wheat all the way or a palm beach (pimento cheese). Some people reading this will order a goose liver from time to time, but they don't get to kiss me for a week if they do. Ughhhh. Nasty.
My sister took care of the check while I took mom back to the back to get two to go containers-- one of chicken salad, one of pimento cheese--- for mom to snarf on over the weekend or during the Super Bowl. When we asked her about the Super Bowl and if she was going to watch she said enthusiastically, "Of course...I want the Bengals to win!" Allrighty then....moving right along. I did not dare even glance at my sister..... we were trying so hard not to laugh as it was.
And, yes, I came straight home and made appointments with nearby facilities to tour them and start moving ahead, for mom. Dang...she IS funny, though.

Yummmmmmalicious

I am still in my pj's, drinking coffee at my computer, and just hanging. (Don't tell the Warden...he'll kill me). Oh, my lord.....who knew life could be this good on a rainy cold Thursday. If I had my way, I'd stay just like this all day but I do have some errands to do, so I guess I'll have to give this up at some point. But some days, you just need to call in old, or tired, or whatever and take a personal day. I once called in "old" to my boss telling her I was not sick--I was just whipped, and she laughed so hard, she told everybody at the office. Oh, well. Sometimes you just have to do it.
I did have "a moment" yesterday evening when I just went over the wall--that would be the CHOCOLATE wall, in specific. I had just had E- freaking-nuf of South Beach and decided to make my friend Adre's, friend Louise's, Chocolate Fudge Pudding Cake.
It's like a gooey chocolate brownie or molten chocolate cake and takes a big fat 5 minutes to throw together. Then you can cook it to be how ever you like it--I'm about a medium goo girl. I like the edges to be a little crusty, after it cools somewhat but not thick. Think chocolate souffle consistency. Think death by chocolate and dying with a big ole smile on your face, with a spoon in your hand. And the best part is, I did not get any comments from the diet Warden. He didn't even give me the rolled eyes or the "Nooooo-dul" like he usually does when I've gone AWOL. Nope. He grabbed a spoon and went right after it with me. I even threw a dixie cup of Blue Bell vanilla ice cream on mine, and the rest was pure heaven. Hey,..... go big or go home.

And since now all of you are droooooling, I'm gonna include the recipe here so your pants will all be too tight tomorrow, too. Hey, it's the least I can do for friends.

Recipe: Fudge Chocolate Pudding Cake

Mix together: 4 eggs , 2 cups sugar, 1/2 cup flour, 1/2 cup good cocoa, 1 tsp. good vanilla extract

Add: 1 cup (I used less-1 1/2 sticks) melted, cooled butter & 1 cup chopped pecans or walnuts
(I toasted mine, first)
Bake: 350 degress for 30 minutes in lightly greased 8x8 " pan (20-25 min. if you want it nice and gooey) Bake until it looks done around the edges but still jiggles in the center.

Serve: with whipped cream, ice cream, or eat it straight from the pan!

Doubles easily; just adjust the cooking time. Can be poured into individual ramekins--adjust cooking time.

Feelin' blue...go to Nicholsen-Hardie or Calloway's

Yesterday was a total gas. I went to my favorite gardening spots to soak up color and buy some plants for my friend whose husband died. I wanted to cheer up her front pots but decided I better ask before doing it. I wanted it to be an anonymous surprise but then I realized my gesture might be the last thing in the world she'd want done....like maybe the pots were the last thing her husband potted and even though he's gone, and they sure were, she might not be ready for that yet. So I emailed her. Woo hooo. Green light.
Someone had already pulled up her oh, so dead red salvia that bought it in the last freeze and stuck a big old purple cabbage, still in the original container on top of the planter. Well...ok...I guess that's a look --just not the one I was going for. So I threw my gardening gloves, spade, plant fertilizer& trash bag (hey...I'm full service here) in my trunk, and headed out to see what might work. OOOO, la la...hot pink, white and red cyclamen, pansies in every color imaginable, mini tee-tiny cabbages and kale's in purple white and pink, primroses to die for, dusty miller for fill in, ivy for a trailing effect since the pots are big and tall. I nearly stroked over all the lovelies!
I had to go with winter hardy plants since we could still have a freeze but that didn't hamper my selection at all. Add to all that a big sack of potting soil, and I was back on the road to her house.

Once back at her house, I unloaded and got to work. The sun was out, the birds were singing (OK maybe they weren't but I like the idea) and my hands were digging in the dirt. Ahhh, just a blessing even if it does get down your gloves a little. Undoubtedly, for me, the best part was it was all done in love for someone else. Yeah, no doubt it's fun to do your own pots but being of service to someone else, is the whole ball of wax for me. Could she pot her own pots eventually?? Well, of course she could, but that's not the point. It was just a little something for someone whose world just shattered. She didn't need food, was surrounded by her sisters and another gal who, so far, does not appear to know when to go home, but that's OK (and none of my business!). Right now distraction is good. And so is a little springy bright color when you're feeling lower than a snake's belly. So I placed, I rearranged, I fluffed, I added fresh soil higher, and finally gotter dun'.

I found a broom, swept up my potting soil spillage and gathered up my trash, loaded up, and headed for home ( a whopping 3 blocks away.) Windows down with the cool air blowing on me, life was just gooooooooood. And her's will be again, too--just not for quite a while. I'm hoping a little color might help.

Magazines...so many...so little time...

I have to admit it--I just love magazines. They are better than a quick 48 hour vacation and there's no packing involved. The only problem is, they either make me want to totally redo my house or cook. (I like to garden, but not when its cold.) And they inspire the heck out of me for a good 20-30 whole minutes. I always think that I want to move somewhere after reading or looking at some place. The only problem is, after I'm through reading or looking at all the neat pictures of one place, I see someplace else. Or, I like all three places and can only be in one at a time. I think I just like too many things and my built in screener, that should weed things out, doesn't. And then my brain gets congested with all this .......stuff.

Which brings me to something I hate and I'm usually not a hater. I don't get a hate on for many things, but this one is just deserving. I hate mascara and pantyhose---the uncomfortable nude kind that are so old school. And mascara is just gross. It makes your eyelashes get all crispy and crusty and then it flakes--in your eyes, underneath your eyes, everywhere. And taking it off is just THE WORST. You have to use some kind of gooo to get it liquefied so it'll come off, and then half your eye lashes come out wiping off the goo. I thought the point was to make your eyelashes look longer--not make them fall out.

And panty hose....omg. First they feel like sandpaper against your legs. And then they contort you into some sort of abnormal human shape squeezing you like a tube of toothpaste, with a crotch that either grabs or sags. Whyyyyyyyyyy?? I just flat refuse to wear them. They are a medieval form of torture. Whew....I feel soooo much better getting that out.

And FYI: DO NOT google panty hose pictures unless you are prepared to hit some really disturbing sites.....whoa. I did not see that coming.