I Think This Is My Fault

My last words on my last post were.......
I would love some snow right now.

Then while I slept under my new, lovely shade of cream colored comforter with two muddy paw-prints on it, it snowed. An arctic blast blew through Northeast Ohio, leaving a hell of a commute to work for those of us that had to go to work and not have the day off. Huh....
Should I blame it on that old tired saying, 'Be careful what you wish for.' I just wanted the mud covered up for a couple months so I could train the dog to wipe her paws. She could totally do it too. She's smart.
Maybe I have a blogging genie that's granting me wishes, I've made a few new blogging buddies over at Humor-Blogs.com. Maybe I've rub someone the right way. Ha! Thank you all by the way for the Smiley Votes and yes, I vote for myself, but it's just to see if the vote smiley thingamajig is working right.
Now don't forget my Financial Advice for tonight, given a couple days ago. I'm going to have to start a Financial Blog now, especially if this works.......
I would love a million dollars right now.

Save The Comforter, Save My World

With a fist full of gift cards and cash, I made my way back to the shopping arena. Shopping as God intended, getting stuff for myself that I actually like.
Before I continue, is it wrong of me to be happy to not hear that bell ringing?
Anyway, one of the items on my list was a new comforter for our bed. You can read about what happened to the old comforter here. I found one. Comfortably fluffy and matched the curtains that the old comforter matched. The problem I planned to work around was the fact that it was a lovely cream color. One simple request I asked my house full of testosterone, "Please close the bedroom door when you let the dog into the house so I can clean her paws before she jumps on the bed." Not 24 hours after the comforter was place on that bed two muddy paw prints showed up. Clearly I asked to much of "them". I would love some snow right now.

Financial Advice for a Prosperous 2009

There have to be some poor people in the world, so I only give out this advice knowing that half of you will not even read this post as you are feverishly dropping EntreCards. Half of you will not take it seriously and think of me as a part-time receptionist giving out halfwit advice and the other half will forget all together. I don't want to start an economic boom, this isn't about me.
On New Year's Eve the very last thing you should do before you go to bed is take all the change/coins out of your pockets or wallets, place this change on your front doorstep and go to bed. Now you can see why I know some of you will forget, the whole New Year's Eve cocktail thing may cloud your memory. Then when you wake up on New Year's Day the very first thing you do, before the bathroom or coffee, is bring that money in. That is the start of you bringing in money the whole year.
Think of this as my way of a small economic boost for our failing economy. Hey I do what I can. The husband and I brought in more money this year than last year, so this is a proven money maker. It also helped that I had a job this year.

Kill The Spider

"There is a tarantula in the laundry room, there will be no clean socks until it's dead."
In my world there are clearly defined jobs in our household. Spider killin' is for the men folk. Most spiders hang out in laundry rooms, so it's inevitable to run into a few now and then. But this one, this huge, hairy, eight legged monster made me jump.
"Boy #3! It's spider killin' time!"
After his first look at Shelob, I could tell he was bummed to be the only guy in the house. "Don't let it smell your fear."
He had come down to the laundry room with a wad of paper towels in his hand, but was re-thinking that option. His eyes wandered to the husbands work boot, then the spider, then the boot again. "It's the way to go." I said. "The boot."
"Yeah."
"You can't let it get away, you have to kill it first try. It's the kind of spider that will come back and kill us in our sleep if it gets away."
"Yeah."
The spider never moved during this whole conversation. Thank God. I was hoping it wasn't making it's own plan of attack. "I'm going to stand over there."
"Yeah."
I'm going to have to buy Boy #3 some gum or something after rescuing me from that tarantula.

Gunga Galunga...... Gunga, Gunga-Galunga

Since watching Caddyshack for the eighty-seventh time last weekend Boy #2 has been talking to me in a Bill Murray accent and uttering the phrase Gunga Galunga...... Gunga, Gunga-Galunga to me whenever I ask him to take out the garbage. Back in the day, around this time of year, things got done. One sentence would stop them in their tracks, "I'm calling Santa." I would then proceed to the phone and actually start to dial the weather, sometimes I got an updated forecast, other times I didn't have to go that far, but things got done.
While wandering around the husbands place of employment Friday night, I ran into the Jolly Ole' Elf himself. I grabbed both Boy #2 and Boy #3 by the ear, dragged them over to the Big Guy and said, "Santa these boys are no good, don't bring them anything Christmas Eve. This one won't do his homework and this one owes me money."
"Consider it done ma'am."
At that time Boy #2 took his index finger, pointed it at Santa's chest and said, "Gunga Galunga...... Gunga, Gunga-Galunga."
"Ho, Ho, Ho.....Caddyshack! I love that movie. See you Christmas Eve boys."
I don't care who you are, that's funny. Our children have inherited mine and the husbands incredible sense of humor, chips off the old block.
"Come on boys, mommy's going to grant you a total state consciousness before I knock your heads together."

Matching Socks, The Dog Will Lead You to Them

The dog must have hid one of the husbands smelly socks in my office. And I fear if I don't find it soon I may die. The dog likes to hide socks or use them as a pillow, you know snuggle up to them with our scent on them while we are at work or school. Just the other day we found several of Boy #3's socks in her little house, the house she seeks comfort in when I vacuum. This sock discovery left Boy #3 slightly confused, a little befuddled. Being last in the line of three boys doesn't leave him many options when it come to clean socks, it's a seniority thing. I tried to comfort him in his confusion, "Honey, you will have socks that match now."
"Matching socks......" he repeated in disbelief.
"Yes, see you remember matching socks, your socks matched at your brothers wedding."
"Matching socks." It was all coming back to him now.
"Of course," I said, "people will think we have money now. They'll expect better presents than I was planning on buying. I'll have to start doing lunch, getting my nails done and drinking non-fat mocha lattes."
"Can I wear my matching socks now mom?"
"I should wash them."
His face fell, he's not stupid, he knows what happens to socks once they go into the laundry.
"I'd take the risk if I were you." I told him. "You don't want them to smell like dad's socks do you?"
The fumes usually lead me to the hiding places before I suffocate, but my sinus's get clear out while on the hunt.

It's A Major Award

Knowing that post number 500 was drawing near, I wanted to make a big deal out of it, like everyone else does. I've never celebrated a post number before, wasn't sure where I would go with it. So I decided to give myself an award.

Let's face it, I deserve it and no one else is going to give me one. I took matters into my own hands and awarded myself a Major Award. One might say a most prestigious award. Wow I spelled prestigious right on the first try. I can't stop thanking myself, this is awesome, really thank you.

I reminisced a little, looking through my old posts. Mis-spelled reminisced on the first try, damn it. Here is my very first post on this blog, which kind of explains the weird name Farvel Cargo. This blog started out as an advertising venue for our home business that never went anywhere, now it's just an addiction, an out of control addiction that consumes my life. You see I've barely started my Christmas shopping, the tree is only half decorated, no clean socks and I can't remember where Boy # 3 is. I don't know who I think is going to do all this stuff for me, but someone should. My blog has just been awarded a Major Award, I don't have time for trivial matters.

Wrath of God Zit

On the left side of my nose is a bright, shiny, un-pop-able, red zit. I wore my glasses this weekend and they were lopsided on my face, that's how huge this thing is. Being 4o somethingish, I kind of thought this sort of thing was behind me.
I managed to cover it well for work or at least I think I did. No one looked at me funny. You know standing and talking to me and then seeing their eyes zero in on my nose and stay there for the remainder of the conversation. That didn't happen. Table's turned, I would have stared at some one's big zit. Kind of like Austin Powers, "Moley, moley, moley."
I went over to mothers last night to see if she might have some words of wisdom on my horrendous nose. She's the one that told me that the zits would go away with age and that the cramps would go away after having children. Three children later I still go into pre-labor every month. The words of wisdom I received were, "Don't touch it!"
Dad, being a pro-active kind of guy said, "Pop it with a needle."
"Don't tell her that, she'll do it."
Maybe I'll just put some Windex on it.

I'm Thinking Chinese

A shower, chicken soup and a mocha at hand have my strep throat at bay perhaps long enough to write a post and do some online shopping. No amount of winter wear will have me out in the twenty degree weather with falling snow to attempt Christmas shopping this weekend. Some year in the near future I might learn from my mistakes and start my shopping early but this year I'll be scrambling again. And if it didn't hurt to talk a string of obscenities would be spewing from my mouth all weekend long. But instead, I plan to curl up on the couch watching the game show channel and nodding off in front of a roaring fire in the fireplace. I just have to get the husband to go along with this plan and keep a fire going all evening to appease me, he's the key to this whole master plan. He's going to have to feed me too. I'm thinking Chinese.

The Illusive Pin Number

I know the first and last numbers and the two middle numbers. I just can't seem to string them along in the proper sequence. Not without the little piece of paper at the bottom of my purse that has my dad's Subway order on it and a phone number of whom, I know not. It's not like I can't memorize things, it's just that I haven't taken the time to commit those four little numbers to memory. I've been busy and it's always been at the bottom of my purse that today I decided needs cleaned out. There are 67 grocery lists in there, 38 coupons and 23 receipts, give or take. Usually when the purse gets this unorganized, I get a new one. Same with the checking account, hence the new pin number.
Every year a new purse and every 3 to 5 years I have to tell the husband the checkbook is beyond hope and we must start again. The poor guy looks over his newspaper and says, "How much is it costing us this time?"
"The purse or the checking account?" Ha!

All I Want for Christmas is a Brake Job

Two years ago I received a diamond tennis bracelet from the husband for Christmas. You can read the tear-jerking post on it here. That was probably one of the best presents ever, maybe number 2, right after the Barbie Country Camper, the Swingingest Camper on wheels. Barbie would always swing by my brother's room to pick up GI Joe and they would drive cross county or to my backyard, for a picnic or to get married.
This year all thoughts of jewelry or vintage Barbie Campers has been put on hold, taken off the table, scratched off the list, because I'm getting a brake job and a thermostat. It's what every girl wants. Sure, I want to be able to stop my car at will and be relatively warm after scraping the ice off my windshield, but damn the timing. Brake jobs and thermostats don't go with my new boots.

But It Was Not This Year

I held my ground. I was prepared to hold out until the day before Thanksgiving for a dinner invitation. You could see the fear in my eyes at the thought of hosting a Thanksgiving dinner. The year may come that I will have to cook the feast but it was not this year. This year my dear sister-in-law came through again. I dined on turkey, mashed potato's and gravy, stuffing, sweet potato's, green jello, lima beans and pumpkin pie with cool whip. The year may come that all invitations come crashing down around me but it was not this year. This was the year all eight of us sat around card tables and ate like Kings. By all that I hold dear on this good earth, I thank you dear sister-in-law.

I should send her some flowers.

Oh and yes, I'm quite the geek. Lord of the Rings was on all weekend.

Black Friday Myth

Black Friday had me curled up in the fetal position ascared to leave my bed. Crazed shoppers, long lines, bargains to kill for, crowds of people wrestling iPods from your grasp, mass hysteria. I was content to hold up in my house until it was over and emerge the next day, unscathed. That was until I noticed we were out of dog food. I would walk through fire for my dog. Also, I had to get a present for my brother who insisted on sharing his birthday month with Jesus.

"If I'm not back in an hour call 911." I told Boy #3.
"Would you pick me up a couple cheeseburgers?"
"Do you want fries with that?"

I think we were mislead, bamboozled, run amok. There were no lines and I didn't fear for my life. I actually shopped. Before today I had five stocking stuffers bought so far, for my Christmas shopping. I now have a few things checked off my list and feeling confident that I'll finish. Black Friday is a myth, fear not!

For When The Zombies Attack

"I found another box of canned goods in the garage. What's it doing there?" The husband asked me with his 'I already know the answer to this question but I what to hear you say it out loud' voice.'
"For when the zombies attack dear."
"You watched Shaun of The Dead again?"
"If it can happen to a bunch of people in England, it can happen to us."
"Our youngest child sleeps with a golf club next to his bed because he knows you have to remove the head or kill the brain."

So I have some food stored away. There's nothing wrong with being prepared. We live in Northeast Ohio, the place where weathermen threaten us with "lake effect" snow and "Alberta Clippers" on a daily basis throughout our excruciatingly long winter. Any day we could wake up to 10 feet of snow barricading our first and secondary exits. Well I have enough tuna and Spam to last us a month if necessary.

I did watch Shaun of the Dead Saturday and I can't get Don't Stop Me Now by Queen out of my head. Caution "F" word:

Big Snow

Thursday the snow started to fall, I think it was Thursday. We can't call it a blizzard, just a good covering of snow. Enough to cover the leaves that never got raked, so our yard looks like everyone else's now. The dog woke up to the snow covered neighborhood with utter excitement, she bopped around from one window to the next, her ears perked up and tail wagging and said, "Can I, can I, huh, huh, huh, can I go out and play, huh, huh?"
My dog talks to me with her eyes, I know that's what she would have said if she could really talk.
So I clipped her onto her chain and off she went to frolic in the snow. Had tethering the boys to a chain when they wanted to go out and play been an option a few years ago I'd be saving a lot of money on hair coloring right now.
Being totally unprepared for this winter just like every other year, I went to the Wal-Mart to purchase my first, of many, bags of rock salt for my icy front steps. You have to wonder, having the aisles stocked with an ample supply of snow removal items, why am I risking my life in the Wal-mart parking lot? They were as unprepared as I was for the first big snow. Open up a few bags of salt guys, so I can push this shopping cart to my car.
One more big snow thought for the day. Since Uncle Silly Willy and Aunt Fluffy headed south for the winter, I should be getting a call from them soon asking me how the weather is and then hearing a giggle.

Cool Old Lady Glasses

My eye doctor and I have come to an understanding. Avoid looking old. I can’t see up close and I can’t see far away. She says she likes a good challenge and understands all to well the bi-focal thing. She’s a few years younger than me and knows that at around forty-twoish, the close up vision starts to faultier. It’s hard to feel young when you have a pair of glasses perched on the end of your nose and you have to look over them at someone when they start to talk to you. I don’t want to look like a librarian, it’s really not the look I’m going for. Back to the understanding. I will continue to wear contacts, but refuse to wear contacts with bi-focals, it makes me nauseous just thinking about them. I will have a secret pair of bi-focals. I shall call them my Holiday frames, because they are going to end up being my Christmas present. Even though I plan on keeping these old lady glasses to myself, I’m still going to get cool frames. I found pages of reasonably priced frames at zennioptical.com and there are some cool ones. Cool old lady glasses, I think that’s what you call an oxymoron.

Boy #3 Set Me Up

"I'm going to eat ice cream for lunch."
"I think you should." Boy #3 encouraged me.
"I can eat ice cream for lunch if I want to, you can't because you're still growing and you need to eat healthy."
"I'm making myself a sandwich right now." Boy #3 agreed with me.
"If I want to get this laundry done and blog, I don't have time to be opening jars and stuff. I have over half of a large German Chocolate Blizzard just sitting in the freezer."
"I'll eat left-overs for dinner." Boy #3 was helpful.
"That would be great, I could get a lot done."
"No problem mom." Boy #3 smiled at me.
"Do you have any homework tonight?"
"I'm doing it as soon as I'm done with my healthy sandwich." Boy #3 is being responsible.
Somethings not right, can you feel that?
"Mom?" Boy #3 was up to something.
Uh Oh.
"Friday, I'm going to spike my hair up for school." Boy #3 was making his move.
"Absolutely not."
"Oh come on now, you wouldn't want grandma to find out you ate ice cream for lunch would you?" Boy #3 set me up.

But I’ve Procrastinated

It was inevitable; I’ve been literally sitting on my butt doing absolutely nothing with my free blog www.diabeticride.com. I won it in a contest almost a year ago and have hardly done anything with it. I have a little over two months left of the freeness of it. The decision will have to be made whether to keep it or not. You know pay for it now. I had such plans, but Word Press baffled me. I know there are many knowledgeable bloggers out there with free information, but I’ve procrastinated. I hate when that happens.

Cpanels, web hosting, domain hosting, well they’ve left me crossed-eyed. And I know once I get into it I’ll end up crying too. But since I’m not a quitter I’ve just made the decision to spend Black Friday on my blog – all day. I have the day off and I won’t be shopping with the crazy people.

I came up with the idea of Diabetic Ride when the husband was diagnosed with diabetes two days before Christmas last year. A blog to tactfully and tastefully make fun of the husband’s life threatening disease. It can be done. I do it out of love, really, as I learn how to keep him alive.

The International Incident

Sunday dinners have become an afternoon of eating, laughing and reminiscing. Boy #1 and Boy #2 laugh at the torture they've put Boy #3 through. "Remember the time we had to get the neighbor kid to help us hold you down so mom could cut your hair?" I think he's held up pretty well with all the abuse.
"Remember when you broke your arm in Canada?"
"Whooaa, wait a minute. I remember the time YOU broke my arm in Canada. Four whole years ago. I sorta remember being body slammed onto the hotel bed and being pumped full of Canadian aspirin so we could air quote experience air quote The Maid of the Mist. He couldn't air quote back then but he more than makes up for it now.
You see our insurance company wouldn't pay for an international emergency room visit and the husband had already taken the car to the casino. Once he saw that I had everything under control of course. A hotel towel secured with a rubber band was what he considered under control.
Once back in our own country we went to the doctor, who didn't seem overly concerned about the arm until the x-rays got back. "Both bones are broken all the way through, he should be crying."
"He's juiced on Canadian aspirin, good stuff."

And The Tantrum Ensued

I'd like to thank the three snot-nosed children behind me at the Wal-Mart checkout for inspiring this post. Along with their clueless parents of course. With the shopping cart separating us, I loaded my bags. Keeping a sharp eye on the little darlings, hoping they would keep their grimy little hands off my stuff.
Having three children myself I know that four hands against six never ends well. That is why I always grocery shopped alone. Grocery shopping is a chore, not a family outing. One able bodied parent is all you need to complete the task. It always amazed me that an entire family would venture out to do this weekly chore. Everyone gets done faster if you leave them at home, everyone. A family of five blocks an aisle, keeping me from progressing towards my goal - being done. Inevitable temper tantrums block aisles also. When they get loose, they hinder your progress by running in front of your squeaky shopping cart.
These three children managed to keep their booger laced fingers off my groceries and toiletries, they had more interest in the impulse buying items to the left and right of them. Their mother explained that they had Halloween buckets of candy at home, but this logic failed to register and the tantrum ensued.

Andy Kaufman - Might Mouse

I was just watching a Saturday Night Live top 100 moments while trying to get my butt going this morning, well it was morning when I started. I was able to catch the Andy Kaufman - Might Mouse moment and decided to share. It makes me laugh. Hopefully someone does something stupid at Wal-Mart today while I'm shopping, so I can blog about it.

This is a Perfectly Normal Situation

Who, in the name of Zeus's butt hole, arranges a grocery store with the soup in aisle 8 the ice cream aisle? I'm just asking because that's what held me up today. That's what brought my day to a screeching halt.
I'm thinking of getting myself a fake, in the ear cell phone so I can vocalize travesties such as this out loud. People would look at me and say,
"Did she just...... oh she's on the phone. She's not talking to herself, she's on the phone. It may look and sound like she's talking to herself, but there's someone on the other end of that ear thing just as outraged as she is. This is a perfectly normal situation. The soup is in the ice cream aisle? How many active brain cells do you need to know that's a bad idea?"
See everybody agrees with me.

What's Inside Sue's Head?

Answering the door wrapped in a bath towel was not an option this morning, so the leaf raking guy next door took my dog to his back yard to play with his dog. I stuck my head out the door after drying and putting something on and yelled, "I was in the shower! Sorry!" You have to be careful with neighbors while not wanting to get the neighborhood gossiping about answering the door wrapped in a towel, I also have to let this guy know I'm not ignoring him. Neighborhood politics taken care of, I now had time to ponder my filled sinus cavities.

Italicized type will be known as my inside thoughts. The thoughts better left inside than out and since I try to keep a PG-13 blog, I'll use slang for the profanity laced arguments I have with the oblivious.

Huh! Didn't I just get finished with antibiotics for an effing sinus infection?
See I did this out of control sinus infection thing 3 years ago, it's all in my medical records. And this is what I told the other doctor in the office that took care of me instead of the one I saw 3 years ago because she's on vacation.

"Oh that was a few years ago, your records are in storage."
'Storage?'
"We'll start you on these antibiotics....."
'Start?'
"a decongestant and you need to drink liquids to get that mucus to loosen up....."
'How many co-pays are you trying to get out this pal?'
"Lots of vitamin C."
'And back and forth to the gosh darn pharmacy to see what will work instead of digging through a closet to see what does. Three years ago when I did this shhh-stuff I had a blast, especially with the holidays coming up. I love to shop strung out on "may cause drowsiness" cold medicine, cough syrup and antibiotics.'

So waking up with another "eye popping out" headache didn't surprise me, just ticked me off. When I take the boys to their doctor, they have a complete medical history from birth to present on a laptop. Jiminy Christmas jump into the 21st Century for crying out loud.
I'll be taking matters into my own hands this afternoon. I kept records on the medications, x-rays, CAT scans and office visits from the last time this happened. I just have to remember where I stored the son of a puppies.

That Wonderful Cough Syrup

Besides not operating heavy machinery while on that wonderful cough syrup with codeine, I recommend not operating a screw-driver. Especially a small one. If your towel rack falls off the wall it can wait until you're, for the lack of a better word, sober.
A hand towel rack comes with a small, hard to replace screw. I must have dropped that thing 16 times. But I kept finding it so I kept trying to "fix" the towel rack. I actually had a bead of sweat trickle down between my boobs. I usually would have given up way before that happened. But being under the influence gave me an incredible amount of patients. The towel rack is fixed but nothing else will get done today because of the time spent on that little screw.

He’s Her Favorite

I’ve been doing the Kmart Lay-Away thing since the kids were little. I’ve put more Ninja Turtles in lay-away than you can shake a stick at. I’m not sure why you would shake a stick at anything but it’s the only reference that I could think of to get my point across. A lot of Ninja Turtles. I miss those days; now Boy #1 wants steel toe boots for Christmas. So along with sticking a glamorous pair of steel toe boots in lay-away I’m also going to grab a couple digital frames for the “hard to buy for” parents. The past few years the only things on their Christmas lists have been restaurant gift cards. Actually everybody wants gift cards. It’s like all we do is exchange money at Christmas anymore.

I wanted to buy digital frames last year and never did, which is a good thing because they seem to have gone down in price. At least at K-Mart they have. I just have to get the whole digital, technology idea past my mom. She’s anti-technology. If all she has to do is press a button she might warm up to the idea. The mother-in-law has pictures scattered all over the place, she’ll love a digital frame. She loves anything the husband gets her though, he’s her favorite. Shhhh don’t tell anyone.

Halloween Parade of Prostitutes

I counted about twelve prostitutes walking up to my doorstep this Halloween night. Fishnet stockings, high heels and a little tight dress that goes up to her twat is a prostitute. Their parents are delusional if they think they look like anything else.
"Here honey, have a fun size Kit Kat and go put some pants on."
I thanked the Lord above about 27 times tonight for giving me boys. One of the hookers in training walked by my house 4 times.

NO! No, no, no, oh please, please don't let her be one of Boy #3's friends.

Boy #3 then appeared with his rag tag group of friends. I pointed the prostitute out, at which time the group hid in the bushes.
"That's right baby, you hide from the godless Jezebel. I'm the onliest woman in my boys life."

Too Much Testosterone In My House

“Can I have the remote? I just need to check a score.”

“No. You never just check one thing, you check everything.”

There’s too much testosterone roaming around in my house, a girl can’t sit and watch a movie uninterrupted. I hate football season. And it isn’t like the old days when we all loved the Cleveland Browns, although they are a little hard to love these days, they all like a different team. They have fantasy teams, it’s a world I can never be apart of because it confuses the hell out of me. I’ll have a kid explaining the inter-workings of his fantasy football team and I can only pay attention for so long before my eyes glaze over and I say, “Did you take the garbage out yet?”

I gave up the remote and decided to sit in front of the computer for a while in hopes of being left alone. On my computer screen was more fantasy football. WaiverWire Beta, what the hell? “Can I have the computer? I need to check some stats.”

“Huh?”

“It’s important mom.”

“I had my blog up on the screen. You clicked out of my blog?”

“Yeah…… I uhhh….”

“Fine! How about if I just go do some damn laundry.”

This Quarter is Sticky

Before the sinus medication takes effect I thought I'd try to form a few complete sentences. I don't know what made me remember this cappuccino event, perhaps my latest coughing fit broke a memory through my sinus medicine haze.
If you haven't figured it out already, I'm a mocha cappuccino maniac. I have to stop, I have no control over myself when a Speedway gas station presents itself before me and my car. I can't afford Starbucks all the time. Besides I like to fill my own cup, I have time to wait for the foam to go down so I can fit more of that blessed liquid in. Which brings me to my jogged memory. I made a mess with overflowing mocha, by the time I got to the resister to pay my $1.29 I was sticky. I grabbed a moist towelette and began unstickying. The cashier looked at me and said, "$1.29."
"Uhhhh...... hold on, this quarter is sticky." I washed the quarter.
She looked at me with wide, disbelieving eyes. "No one's ever done that before."
I didn't know how to take that after looking at her face. She either thought I was an angel from above or a certifiable nut case. It was hard to tell.
I like to think she went on to perform a good deed for someone, like on that commercial, I sort of set off a chain reaction. Not the crazy lady she tells all her friends about when they are out for drinks. "Oh here comes the check, everybody wash your money." And then they all laugh hysterically.

Snot

Okay so the over the counter stuff isn't working. The snot is still suck up in my head and sucking all the fun out of my day to day activities. I'll have to break down, hand over the co-pay to see the doctor and hope the fist full of prescriptions are on the first tier of our medical insurance plan. And hope I get the whole thing taken care for $50 dollars or less.
Posting on my blogs has been a challenge. I have great ideas but they are getting caught up in the snot swimming around my brain or all together forgotten once the sinus medicine takes effect. Some day I hope to be able to retrieve them before my head explodes. I'm looking forward to the day that I can bend over and I'll be sure that my eyes will stay in their sockets. Because right now I have to check and make sure they are still there when I straighten up.

My Fingers Won’t Go as Fast as My Mouth.

Whenever I’m asked, “What’s the best advice you ever received?” I never hesitate, my mom told me to take Typing I in the ninth grade. Back then I thought it was the dumbest thing I ever heard. “Typing, hello, I’m going to be an artist.” Twenty some years later I find myself sitting in front of a keyboard, more than half of my waking hours. But my fingers won’t go as fast as my mouth. You keep your jokes to yourself:

Type at $150 Words Per Minute for $99!

Press Release:

Here is another great video review by Lisa, who coincidently writes the blog Lisa Reviews. She writes about how she can write at 150 words per minute with Dragon NaturallySpeaking.

I think one of the key takeaways from her video, the key insight that is, is that she is able to write a lot more in those spare moments of time that she has while she's doing other things. Sometimes it's great to multitask, but it's even more important to be able to accomplish useful goals in those spare two or three or four minute pockets of time that we all experience throughout the day.

With Dragon NaturallySpeaking a four minute pocket of time can translate into 600 words! That could be three or four e-mails or one or two long blog articles if you're a blogger like Lisa.
Slick

For just $99 you can get started with Dragon NaturallySpeaking and have it trained in running in about seven minutes. The software with version 10 is simply amazing.

I have been writing about Dragon NaturallySpeaking for almost 2 years now. I have been able to type at rates of up to 167 words per minute with Dragon NaturallySpeaking. That speed was clocked while I was taking a typing test, but even in practical situations when I factor in not only the time it takes to type, but the time that it also takes to edit the words I typed, the end result is that I can still achieve about 100 words a minute, INCLUDING editing time! J

That is extremely fast, and the inclusion of editing time, speaks to the advances that you can see in version 10 as compared to older versions such as version 8 or version 9. It's a lot easier to edit on the fly with Dragon NaturallySpeaking 10.

So if you're looking for a practical tool for your home office, for your writing or blog work, or even just to keep up with e-mail in your spare time, Dragon NaturallySpeaking can give you the power to write at 150 words a minute for a price that starts at $99. Heck, I think I paid that much almost for my last keyboard so that I wouldn't pound my fingers to death. :-)

Sincerely,
Brett Bumeter
Softduit Media
www.softduit.com
PS this article includes about 376 words that I wrote with Dragon NaturallySpeaking 10. It took me about 3 1/2 minutes to write and edit this article, which is just a little bit better than 100 words per minute and that includes editing time.

It took me about 3 1/2 minutes to write and edit this article, which is just a little bit better than 100 words per minute and that includes editing time.

Politcal Free Blog

I talked politics with the flu shot nurse at work today. She started it. I was put in charge of ushering in the flu shot recipients, having them sign in and requesting which arm they would like the needle to puncture. Thank God they all picked an arm and not a cheek. I really didn't want to get to know my co-workers that well. During a lull in the stream of sleeve rollers the discussion ensued. I opted out of the flu shot and she said, "It's a free country."
I replied, "For a couple more weeks I suppose it is."
She agreed with me.
While I have very strong opinions on the upcoming Presidential election, I've decided to keep it out of my blog. No one is going to change my mind, who am I to think I could change theirs? Since I've decided to keep politics out of my blog, I've also tried to shy away from political blog advertisements on my EntreCard and Project Wonderful widgets. There are quite a few bloggers out there that haven't done their homework and it aggravates me. I have enough gray hair. So consider Farvel Cargo and View of Sue politics free.

Bi-Focal Denial

My eye doctor tells me I’m in bi-focal denial. If not wanting to look like a grandma is bi-focal denial then that’s me. I don’t want a pair of granny glasses perched at the end of my nose. But it’s to that point I’m afraid, unless I give up reading. So right before the blessed holiday spending season I have to come up with some glasses money. Either than or invest in a white cane and another dog. And Buckeye would be pissed if I brought another dog into the house; it’s all about her. I can’t rely on her to usher me around, we’d be chasing squirrels all day and never get anything done.
Bi-focals have to cost more than regular eyeglasses. I spent over one hundred dollars on just a pair of frames last time I bought glasses and today I found a bunch of frames for under thirty dollars at ZenniOptical.com. Holy Crap! The husband can get a new pair too! His and her glasses for Christmas. We get more romantic as the years go by.

I’ll get my bi-focals but I won’t like it and if you have any thoughts of me posting a picture of me and my new glasses, just wipe that thought and image from your mind. Never going to happen.

Blue Sock, Black Sock, Left Sock, Right Sock

After 23 years of marriage, I still can't undo what his mother did to him. The idea of putting one dirty sock inside the other so they remain a "set" until wash day just represents more work for me. With three boys and a husband I sort laundry with a surgical mask, rubber gloves and a set of plastic tongs. Undoing smelly, dirty socks is something I didn't sign up for. I would rather they left the house with un-matched socks.

"You know I had an important meeting today and noticed I had on one blue sock and one black sock."
"You didn't go over to your mother's did you?"

He never puts them in the hamper anyway. Two days ago, I shuffled out for my morning coffee and found a pair of rolled up socks on the kitchen counter. Just to mess with his head I unrolled them and put one in the hamper, left the other one right where I found it.

Mom's Kitchen is Closed

I called in sick again today. I know it's Sunday and the office is closed, but I wanted to make it clear that Mom's kitchen is closed too. I must have told the husband 47 times today, "I'm not cooking. Make sure you tell the boys that when you talk to them." I don't want anyone wandering around in my kitchen looking for a home cooked Sunday meal.
I also called in sick to a baby shower I was suppose to attend this afternoon. You know it's a shame to miss them, bummer. But the way my extended family has been multiplying they'll be another one soon.
It's time for my nap now. Being sick is a drag. I need to assure the daughter-in-law that I didn't catch this from her. It's an allergy related thing. Guilt is tool I wield very carefully, I never even thought to blame her for this. A burrito from Chipolte would make me feel so much better though.

Chugging Nyquil

The dog watched with interest as I rummaged through my closet for something comfortable to wear. I was home sick yesterday and she was very curious as to why I was home with her. I dragged myself out of bed at about 11:30, took a shower and dressed myself in my kids hand-me-downs. I resembled a skater-dude. I looked at myself in the mirror and said, "Are you comfortable?" Shook my head yes and made some tea.
The dog spent the afternoon playing outside while I caught up on my recorded episode of the freakshow that is Heroes. Which I should post on later if I can wrap my head around it and all it's freakiness.
I'm hoping that by tomorrow I'll be able to breath through both nostrils at the same time, simultaneously without my mouth hanging open. Really, I don't think that's asking too much but should the congestion continue, I will at least take comfort in my bottle of Nyquil.

Chocolate Attack

During my frantic search for chocolate I ran across one solitary piece of Bubble Yum bubble gum. Ohhhhh! I haven't had a piece of Bubble Yum bubble gum in about 10 years. Along with the gum, were an wide assortment of forgotten candy, stuck up in a bowl on the top shelf of my cupboard. Two stale Hershey's Kisses were eaten immediately and then I popped the gum in my mouth. Who knows how old it was, but I'm still chomping on it. I blew a couple bubbles near the dog and her ears stood up inquisitively.
When the chocolate fix was taken care of, I went on to looking for my scrub brush because sometimes I clean stuff. Right there is where I found my Halloween candy stash. Doh! I hid so well this year it withstood a chocolate attack.

Did He Just Dis' Me?

Yes, the joys of parenthood came to a crashing halt when I opened the cell phone bill. Events spiraled out of control as I investigated the added charges.
Boy #2 received, from mommy and daddy, a new phone for his birthday last month.
"What's this megabytes charge?" I asked Boy #3, because he's the all knowing, 21st century, techno terminology guru in the house.
"It's memory."
"Oh................ Well, why is his $62.38 and yours is only a $1.99?"
Boy #3's eye's lit up and he grinned, that 'I didn't do it this time' grin.
The birthday phone came with a free month of internet, and that's it, I didn't sign anything.
"I'm calling about this charge."
As the evening progressed the husband barely showed interest, just an occasional glance over the newspaper.
When finally I got a human on the other end of my land-line, I explained, "I'm calling about my bill, it's a little higher than usual."
At the other end, I heard, "Wow, $842.56."
"Whaa..... no. $62.38."
"Ma'am, your bill is currently $842.56. It's from the internet usage."

"But.................$842.56? Could you hold on a sec? Go get your brother, tell him to stop using his cell phone, tell him to turn it off now!"
That's when the husband decided to get involved.

I couldn't get through to the woman on the other end of the phone that this was impossible, the best she could do for me was take off 25%.
"I have to call financial services and see if I can get a payment plan." I told the husband.
"Give me the phone."
By the time he got off the phone he had the entire $842.56 credited to our account.
"How did you do that?" I said in utter disbelief.
"All I did was introduce logic into the conversation."
"Kids, leave the room, mommy's going to hurt daddy."

Anti-American, House Disturbing, Phone Book Droppers

I don't know, to me it looks like I have enough phone books, but "they" continue to drop them at the bottom of my driveway. And I continue to drag them into the house and pile them up on that shelf. "They" once dropped one on my front steps at 10:00 at night, breaking one of those little plastic American Flags that I had stuck in the ground for the Fourth of July, setting the dog into a barking frenzy and startling the husband out of a sound sleep on the recliner. Those Anti-American, house disturbing, phone book droppers are pissing me off.

The Home of the Brave

Seven years ago I sat at my desk at work listening to the radio with Bob the copy machine repairman. We listened to the tragic day unfold. I remember stepping outside for some air and noticing how still the sky was and quiet. I guess it shouldn't have surprised me when I went out for the mail this morning at work that I had that same feeling.
It was 9:30 in the morning and the air was still, I looked up at our flag and it just hung there, half staff, unmoving. By the time I left work a breeze had picked up and the flag was waving proudly. It was as if the flag was quietly morning the events of September 11, 2001 along with the rest of the country. And then it picked itself up again, to carry on bravely.

Paycheck Draining Kids

With my recent bombardment of post ideas, I decided to set a few of my brain cells aside to figure out why. Why all the sudden ideas? What’s different now, late in the summer as opposed to early in the summer? And since my brain has been chugging along rather smoothly these last few weeks, I figured it out pretty quick. I’m a freakin genius lately.
And here’s what I came up with, there are no paycheck draining parties on the horizon. No party bills looming in the distance. No more looking into the eyes of the husband and saying, “How are we going to pay for that?” The graduation party is over and the wedding is done. And if those boys pull any of that kind of planning again, I’m putting them up for adoption. I don’t care if they are 22 and 19. I’m keeping the 16 year old, only because as I said in a previous post, I’m living with him when I get old.
I still have some of the booze from the wedding sitting by my fireplace. I haven’t decided if I’ll turn to that when paying the bills we’ve accrued or consolidate debt. Because I’m pretty sure Santa’s isn’t bringing me jewelry this year unless I figure something out. So it’s time to smoosh all those credit cards together in to one payment, debt consolidation. No time to waste, diamond earrings are on my Christmas list!

The Old Lady and Her Walker on Wheels

Homeowners must be ever vigilant when it comes to accidents on their property. When I peered out my living room window Sunday afternoon I sprang into action. Grabbing the closest Boy available I steered him towards the window and said, "See that lawsuit waiting to happen?"
"The old lady and her walker on wheels?"
"Yes, run honey, run like the wind and stop the dog from bolting after her and barking until she keels over dead of a heart attack or breaks a hip."
"I'm all over this mom."
Who sends their aged loved ones with a walker on wheels out alone for a Sunday stroll? Thanks to me and my nosy neighbor tendencies the old lady passed the house without incident.
"Bring that dog in, she can't get too far. She'll be wheeling the walker back around for a return trip."

Lady Zipper

"What the hell did I mean when I wrote that down?" I asked myself.
Do you have a list of "Blogging Ideas" sitting next to your computer? I do, but apparently I need to be more specific when writing notes to myself. Last weekend when ideas were spewing from my brain I went fumbling for my list. With a big grin, because I'm thinking, "this one's going to be good" I started to write ideas under the words Lady Zipper. Each time I came back to the list I kept looking at the words Lady Zipper. About the fifth trip to my ever growing list, my grin started to fade. The words Lady Zipper were bursting my bubble. I real drag on my idea explosion.
Two days later my Alzheimer's moment was over, ohhhhhhhh that's what I meant.

In the ladies room at a wedding the week before Boy #1's, I emerged from the stall. Washing my hands while one woman was putting on lipstick and an other was emerging from her stall.
"Ladies, I need some help." Says the emerging woman. Lipstick woman headed for the exit and before I could even say, "Would you bring me a vodka and orange juice?" she was gone. I took a deep breath and asked what was wrong.
"I just need help with this darn zipper."
"Oh, no problem." What a relief it's just a stuck zipper. Several problems ran through my head and none of them as easy as a stuck zipper. I'll be back to my vodka and orange juice within minutes. Except the zipper wouldn't budge, that was one stuck zipper. It wouldn't go up or down. Damn that lipstick lady being closer to the exit than me! Do I have to stay in the restroom with this woman all night, while the ice in my drink melted?
"It's just not going to move."
"That's does it, I'm taking this dress back."
Yes, tomorrow you can but what about now, will we be leaving the restroom tonight? Cause you can't go out there like this. Obviously you thought a bra wasn't needed for this blessed occasion and I don't have a safety pin.
That's what I said inside my head, what came out was, "Uhhhhhhh, but......"
"Oh I have a sweater."
"Great, a sweater, I'm going to head back to my table, see you on the dance floor."
As I left I'm saying to myself, "I'm so blogging about this. I have to write this down when I get home."

Nervous American Broad

I've posted about my dry cleaners experiences before, they're some kind of Asian couple. They speak broken English to me and the other customers, but when I first walk in, before the door has a chance to chime announcing my presence I hear them speaking in their native tongue. Chinese, Japanese, Korean, I don't know it's all Greek to me. He is usually yelling something from the back while working the big shirt press. He's a scary little dude. Not because he's Asian, but because he reminds me of a Vietnamese military prison camp guard. That's not racist, is it?
I just have a vivid imagination and war movies are on the TV a lot with three boys and a husband. I'm outnumbered. He does look like he's been in a Chuck Norris movie though.
She usually gets my shirts, takes my money and tells me to have a nice day. Last week I heard her in a little room but he approached the counter.
'Oh God please don't let me say anything stupid. Say nothing, just shut your mouth, no eye contact.'
I'm my own best friend when it comes to advice.
I made it to my car with clean shirts and all my fingers. I leaned over to file away my receipt and put my purse down when I heard a gentle tapping on my window. After totally freaking myself out it was inevitable that when I turned and saw him peering in my car window that I would jump out of my seat with a "Don't Kill Me" look on my face. I think I scared the poor guy. He held up four fingers and said, "Four shirt, four?"
Words escaped me, I nodded yes and he went back into the dry cleaning facility probably muttering to himself, "Nervous American broad."

Stubborn Took on a Whole New Meaning

"I white-hot hate school clothes shopping for you with every fiber of my being. I've told you that before, right?"
"Yeah, but you've never put it quite that way."

This is the conversation Boy #3 and I had on our way out of the mall, that and where to stop to eat. Since he was about 4 years old, no maybe 3, stubborn took on a new meaning for me. Once in K-Mart my mom and I had to wrestle a screaming 4 year old into a winter jacket to see if it would fit. We literally had to hold him down on the floor to try a pair of shoes on his feet. I would have to distract him while getting him dressed in something new. Still hanging in his closet is the cutest little polo shirt with plaid shorts and suspenders, size 4T, never worn, because he had a fit when I tried to get him to wear it.
Now at the wonderful age of 16, he will only shop at one store.
"You're not coming in here with me are you?"
"Who else is going to make sure you have enough room in the crotch, honey?"
MuuaaHaHa!
When I get old and can't take care of myself, I'm living with him. It's in my will.

I am Humbled

Apparently I am an Awesome Blogger Friend. And I have an award to prove it. Ann over at A Nice Place In The Sun bestowed the award upon me. She has me lumped in with some pretty awesome bloggers, so I am humbled. Thank you Ann!

The award originated at Ettarose-Edge of Sanity.com who I have been dropping EntreCards on here and there and her blog is a hoot! Stop over there for a laugh.

This is way cool for me, it's my first award. You like me, you really like me!

This morning, after going through what seemed to be a bout of writer's block, I had a post idea explosion in my brain. I don't know what happened but I now have a list of posts to write. Every 5 minutes a new idea popped in my head. I always keep a list going by the computer. So I went rifling through the papers on my desk, nothing had been added to it in a while. In fact there was only one idea written down and I'll post about it as soon as I figure out what I meant when I wrote down - "Lady zipper" it has me quite puzzled.

Laundry Issues

I've been so busy at work this week, so tired. I had M & M's for dinner tonight. And chased them down with Pepsi. I plan on being witty and funny this weekend. Perhaps even profound but don't get your hopes up. I just found out that Boy #3 has been wearing dirty socks all week. I'll have to buy him some new ones, I don't want to over tax myself with too much laundry. I wonder if anyone else in the house has laundry issues?

Blame it on the Vodka

I crawled out from under my rock Saturday night and danced the night away at Boy #1's wedding reception. I've never bothered to learn any of those "line dances" except for the Chicken Dance and the Hokey Pokey. The steps to the Electric Slide have always eluded me. There's another one and I can't remember the name but the man singing the song tells you what to do. So after several vodka and orange juice's, I said, "Hell, I can do that." So, carefully, so's not to spill my drink, I stomped my right foot, jumped two times, did the Charlie Brown and said, "Hey I'm dancin."
Later in the evening while out on the dance floor the sister in law informs me that she requested "Da Butt". My blank stare and vodka soaked grinned surprised her and my cousin.

"You've never shook it to Da Butt?
"I hardly ever shake it."

Before I knew it, I was doin Da Butt. I was shakin it. Really, when you have Da Butt, you don't need The Chicken Dance or The Hokey Pokey.
I found a Da Butt video on YouTube just in case I'm not the only old fart in the room.

Thankfully when I searched Da Butt on YouTube, I didn't find a video of myself. If you see me on YouTube, please be kind.

The Goofier Side of Life

One of the goofiest memories of the husbands and my marriage was the day (way back in the day) we had our brother-in-laws over, they were helping us put up new kitchen cabinets. Star Trek was on, because we're Trekkie's. Not the new Star Trek, we are purest, the original Star Trek where most of the cast is dead, half dead or Price Line negotiators. The episode that was on that afternoon was the one where the aliens took Spock's brain. Having seen it before we went about our work glancing at the television occasionally. Never missing a beat or drawing attention to our nerdness.
My main job that day was to keep the kids out of the way, I was in the living room changing a diaper (I told you, way back in the day) and watching the TV. Before I knew what I was saying it came out, "Dear, they're putting Spock's brain back in."
"Oh." Before he knew what he was doing he put his tools down and joined me in the living room, leaving our brother-in-laws to stare after us. Their mouths hanging open in utter amazement. They then looked at each other as if to verify that they had just seen and heard the same thing. Both of them cocked their heads to the side, grinned and stored the information away for future use. Boy they use that information often, weddings, picnics, birthday parties, even at a funeral once.
We all just attended a wedding Saturday night so that goofy moment in history is fresh in my brain.

Get Off Your Butt

The company I work for is big on charitable functions. Once a month they pick a charity to focus on. Coming up very soon is Alzheimer's Memory Walk Funds need to be raised to help prevent, treat and cure this disease. And we can help!
Across the United States Teams are organizing. Friends, relatives and co-workers are uniting for the Memory Walk. Team Captains are needed. Can you step out of your protective cocoon for a walk? Can you organize a small group of people to do the same? Ask three friends to join you and in turn they can ask three friends. You have a team now!
The only way I’m going to get off my butt and participate is to have people motivate me. The people at work with their endless caring and giving is what I need to inspire some charitable acts on my part. Let’s get off our butts and take a walk.

Mrs. Kravitz Moment, Aug. 4, 2008

I'm so proud of the neighbor kid. He's finally shed the training wheel monkey off his back and is riding around the neighborhood on two wheels, mom and little sister running behind him.

I know my readers have been patiently waiting for my latest "Mrs. Kravitz moment," the last one was about turds. It started off with the kid and the training wheels but ended up with dog poop. You just never know what will unfold outside your office window.
Today I'm focusing on one of the first major steps towards independence. And I don't think she's going to let him do it just yet. She's keeping up with him pretty well. I don't know what it is with us moms and their children riding off and leaving you in the dust on that first solo bike ride, but it tugs hard at the heart. Perhaps we know right then, deep down that we're the next monkey on their backs they are going to try to shake.

I won't get sappy, I won't get sappy, I won't get sappy.

Maybe I'm a little sappy because I've spent the last 3 weeks signing Boy #2 up for college classes and when sitting in the councilors offices in college, all of a sudden I became a lump in the second chair with my purse on my lap. Straining to see over my baby's broad shoulder as he plans his future.
Is this the little boy I taught to ride a bike?
Shouldn't I have a little more say in what he does with his life so he can support me when I'm old?
I'm getting away from this window before I get all misty.

Further Instructions

One of the first little business ventures I tried online was T-Shirts sales, all the way back in 2003. I still have the shop, but haven't paid much attention to it.
The T-Shirts are plain on the front but on the back it looks like someone pinned a note on it. This one pictured says, "Under Surveillance (just act normal). The one I wear all the time says, "Would someone PLEASE stop this woman from spending anymore money? Thanks, her husband.
Under Surveillance is in a contest at www.t-shirtcountdown.com

If my Internet moves any slower while collecting the links for this post, I will break something.

Finally! Here is where you can vote, if you want to! Hey it's a break in the EntreCard dropping monotony. The link goes to the second page in the Funny Category section. Look for my t-shirt picture - vote for it! If you don't see it on the second page go to the first, because the barrage of voting from all of you will take it to the first page.

If further instructions are necessary leave me a comment.

Update: Karen voted for me and moved me to page 1, so I fixed the link!

I Can't Think of a Witty Title

The dog thinks she's a cat. She lounges on top of our couch, guarding the neighborhood. And for some reason she's oppose to any other dog walking down the sidewalk. Doesn't particularly like skateboarders either.

I used up my big word allotment over at the other blog, View of Sue today. I wasn't sure which blog to put the post on, since the post was entertainment related it ended up there, but could have been posted here also, so I linked it.

Also while dropping my EntreCards I ran into a post on No Crappy Crap that freaked me out and I thought I'd share. Follow it's instructions.

Stinkers the Siamese Cat - FOUND

Good news, they found Stinkers. I don't know who "they" are, I'm just going by the signs in the neighborhood. Apparently Stinkers went missing sometime in the middle of the week. White, 8-1/2 x 11 sheets of paper sprang up on all the telephone poles in the neighborhood.

Missing
Siamese Cat
Phone number
STINKERS

You really don't have time to be creative with a sign when your pet gets lost, so you keep it simple. Either the signs worked or Stinkers just got hungry. I have a telephone pole in my front yard and I never looked for the cat.
Pictured is the sign at the end of the development, I guess "they" are thanking all of us for looking.
"Hey, don't mention it, anything I can do to help, really."
I'll be spending the rest of my Sunday guilt ridden because I didn't join the Stinkers search. The weekend was going well too.

Car Misfortune

Weird things happen to me and my car. I’ve depended on car rental more than I care to say. I’ve had the door of a mini-van fall off the hinge, while driving over a traffic counting cable it came loose and wrapped around my tire wheel, my fuel pump died minutes after I passed my emissions test, a kid with a pellet gun shattered my drivers side window, an axle thingamajig broke, left me stranded in the middle of the road and a woman stopped and asked me for directions. These are each, all wonderful ideas for upcoming posts, my misfortunes on the road are bound to make someone laugh, except the husband, he’s the one that I call crying on my cell phone.

Elaborating posts to follow!

Humor on Hold

Sunday morning we woke to the news that a local Police Officer was shot and killed on a routine traffic stop. Josh Miktarian was keeping my community safe, he was keeping my family and me safe, for that I am grateful beyond belief. It takes a very special kind of person to put themselves in harms way.

I ask for prayers and some kind thoughts for this special man and for his wife and three month old daughter.
Our community is in shock. Flags fly at half mast and flowers are piling up where Josh was gunned down, I pass by it everyday. The gunman is claiming self defense, Josh's gun was never out of his holster. While our community mourns we also hope for justice.

Bad Karma Post

I fear I may have upset Marco Polo. Or the Lord above, can't be sure but I know someone ruined my day of leisure at the pool. I dragged my butt out of bed close to 10:00 am. Yes, I sleep until 10:00 am on the weekends.
The sky was bright and sunny and the pool was calling me. I grabbed my pool bag, contents mentioned in my previous post and strolled to the pool. Found a lounge chair with only one broken strap, pretty good for the crowd that had already assembled there that bright, sunny day, and arranged my belongings in their proper place. Can of Pepsi within reach and book in my hands, I settled in my chair for the tanning process to begin.
This is about the time that the spirit of Marco Polo ruined it all. Apparently he likes the silly assed game in his name. Dark clouds covered the sky and I had only read two pages of my book, didn't even get my can of Pepsi open. I felt sprinkles of rain and since I had walked to the pool I couldn't wait to see if this was going to blow over. I had to pack up before I even broke a sweat. Inside my head I was swearing like a drunken sailor.
On my way I home I came to the realization that for the first time in the history of my pool going days, I had not heard one child utter the words Marco Polo.