Snot Preparedness Process

Everyone in the house was sick, they went down one after the other, except me. I remained snot free. I thought I was in the clear until yesterday. I now have a head full of snot. Being the number one caregiver in the house because no one else will do it and because it's in my nature to tell people what to do, I must take care of myself.
I have my beloved Nyquil so I'm not worried. But to make life easier and to keep from getting out of my warm bed in the middle of the night, over the years I've perfected a snot preparedness process before going to bed.
On my windowsill I place some tissues, a small glass of water and nasal spray. So when I wake up not being able to breath through my nose my tissues are right there so I can blow. Then I have a glass of water for the dry mouth I have from breathing through my mouth. Then I can snort the nasal spray, clearing my nasal passages without getting out of bed.
I urge you to try my system as I think it's a pretty good plan unless you have to pee. One warning though, I found this out the hard way. If you are immersed in the throws of a raging cold or the flu and your thought process is affected or you are working on a good Nyquil buzz, leave the nasal spray in the bathroom. This is why:
Half asleep in the middle of the night, not able to even recall the names of my children, I grabbed the nasal spray. I broke protocol and went right to step 3. I didn't even lift my head off my pillow, shoved the upside down bottle up my nose and shot the liquid straight to my brain. It burned my sinus cavities on the way. Once in there it dislodged several brain cells, rendering me an idiot. The brain cells are still in there slamming against the inside of my skull wondering what the hell happened. My eyeballs almost popped out of their sockets and I'm quite certain smoke came out of my ears. After the initial thrust into my brain the liquid then flowed down the back of my throat, scorching my esophagus as it made it's way to my stomach where it settled only to make me nauseated. At that point I had to get out of bed to first throw up and then to make sure everything on my face was where it was suppose to be. I was happy to see my eyes still in their sockets. But I looked like hell. I made myself worse.
I hope I've helped some of you during this cold and flu season. Oh and don't tell my mom about this post, she gets mad when I say snot.

Uh, what we miss?

There are times in our lives when the stars align in such a way that circumstances beyond our control happen in perfect order, leaving us standing with our mouths hung open, speechless asking ourselves,

"Did that really just happen?"
Several years ago I asked Boy #2 what he wanted for his 12th birthday and he replied,
"I want one of those T-Shirts that says, 'can't sleep clowns will eat me' in black."
And then he rattled off a list of video games. I'm the one that showed him the T-Shirt because I thought it was pretty damn funny. I ordered it and we got it in time for his birthday. He wore it all the time and received a lot of comments and laughs.
One afternoon I had all three boys with me and we had to stop for gas. The gas station had a Subway in it and we were hungry. But Boy #1 and Boy #3 wanted Burger King which was right next door. I gave them money to buy their beloved cheeseburgers and Boy #2, with his 'can sleep clowns will east me' t-shirt on, and I went into the gas station to order some subs.
The cashier, a young kid probably 17 or 18, saw the T-Shirt,
"Oh my God, that's too funny." And he called the other employees over to see the T-Shirt. Other customers took a look see also. We all had a good laugh and returned to our designated duties, them working and us ordering subs.
Still with grins on our faces we glanced at the entrance of the store and everyone's face froze. A clown walked in, hand on the bible, honest to God, a clown walked in to use the restroom. I suppose she's used to people staring at her because it didn't phase her that the entire store of customers and employees followed her every move wide eyed and dumb struck.
Once in the bathroom with the door closed behind her we all spoke at once,
"Oh my God."
"That was a clown."
"Did you see that?"
"Are you kidding me?"
"What are the odds?"
And all eyes went to Boy#2 and somebody told him to run because the clown was going to eat him. The laughter ensued. When the clown came out of the ladies room we all whipped our heads back to what we were doing, whistling away and looking up at the ceiling as she made her exit. I stood in front of Boy #2 the whole time, hiding his shirt. No body is going to eat my kid.
That was when Boy #1 and Boy#3 walked in and saw everyone in the store laughing,
"Uh, what we miss?"

From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude Files #OMG - WTF

And so it ends my friends, The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude and her are staying in China. I didn't even get a chance to say good-bye. This is truly a sad day for me and my blog. This will be my final Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude post, unless the new Chinese people get a personality.
How can they do this to me? Why would Chinese immigrants leave their communist homeland to live the American Dream and then go back to a one party dictatorship? How does that make sense?
I had heard rumors that they were gone from my mother, who's friend heard that they were gone for good. Refusing to believe, I PM'ed her friends daughter on FaceBook who confirmed the rumor to be true. And then I braved our current blizzard of 2012 to see and hear for myself.
The new Chinese girl and I actually carried on a conversation, she understood everything I said and pronounced my name correctly. So you can see why I'm so upset. My next stop was the liquor store to pick up a bottle of raspberry vodka. I plan to get a good buzz going and read my old From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude Files posts tonight. I will raise my glass of raspberry vodka and orange juice, which is by far the best booze concoction that has ever past my lips, and toast two of the best characters any blogger can run across.
Farewell my Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude and her, farewell.

Planning for the End of the World

I'm not an alarmist, I'm a thinker.
I spent a week recuperating on the couch watching movies. Movies from the library and movies on TV. What happened to me during this drug induced fog, I'm not sure. But I'm quiet certain the end is near.

I watched Knowing, Armageddon, 2012, oh and Iron Man 2, Robert Downey Jr. is awesome. The three end of the world movies have me perplexed. I'm just not sure which way to go with my preparations. Will it be an asteroid? Will the sun melt us all except for the children that can hear the voices and are saved by the aliens? Or is the Earths core going to erupt and send the tectonic plates in a raging uproar?

With any scenario I'm, well let's face it, we, are pretty screwed. That's why I decided that first I need to find someone who can fly a plane, a big plane. So if you can fly a big plane 'friend me' on FaceBook. I want to be your BFF. I will also need one billion dollars. There is a button on the right column of my blog that says "Donate", click on that and be generous. You will need a PayPal account so get to it.
I'm not one to sit around waiting to kiss my ass good-bye, I'm a doer, a planner and a thinker. So I need to find where the aliens hang out and somehow convince them to beam me up, I'd be huge asset to the start up of the new world and mankind.
The asteroid thing concerns me. I don't know any oil-drillers or astronauts. And I'm not sure that building an underground bunker is going to work because according to Charlton Heston and I quote:
'This is the Earth, at a time when the dinosaurs roamed a lush and fertile planet.
A piece of rock just 6 miles wide changed all that.
It hit with the force of 10,000 nuclear weapons. A trillion tons of dirt and rock hurtled into the atmosphere, creating a suffocating blanket of dust the sun was powerless to penetrate for a thousand years. It happened before. It will happen again. It's just a question of when.'
Gah! I hope NASA and the best oil driller in the world are on top of this. We have the technology that the dinosaurs didn't.
The original Iron Man was better than Iron Man 2, which is always the case with a sequel I suppose. I'm also looking forward to seeing The Avengers, Robert Downey Jr. is in that as Iron Man. It comes out in May of this year and that being 2012. I'm sure we'll have time to see it before the mayhem starts. Pretty sure.

From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude Files #815

I have everything figured out now. It took a while but the lights are all on and somebody's home....me. At least for this post, I'm playing with a full deck. The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude and 'her' are not back yet but I can explain why.
They are Chinese. We established this fact several posts ago. And they are in China to see their new grandchild. They have been gone for months and months, it's been worrisome for me. I depend on them for blogging material. I continue to check on them by asking the various family members when I stop in for my 4 shirt. Really there is never the same person behind that counter and language barrier is exhausting. But the last time I checked they will be back after the Chinese New Year which is at the end of January.
Back over at my other blog View of Sue information has been pouring into my brain and I didn't even know it. Being part of the Blog Chain from Absolute Write I've been reading some new blogs. Our prompt this month was Winter Nightmare. I read, I comment, I go on to the next blog and do it again.
Walking out of the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes yesterday I stopped in my tracks and said,
"Ohhh." And smacked myself in the head.
I remembered reading a post about having a baby in China here at a blog called Let's Get Happy. The author explains that it is Chinese custom when a baby is born one set of grandparents arrives at the new babies parents house and stay to help out. They stay for a month, maybe two and they are there 24/7. The horror!
So I put 2 and 2 together, The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude and 'her' have settled into the home of one of their children and taken over and I've estimated that they have overstayed their welcome big time.
I know I will walk in there one day and they will be back in their places with bright shining faces. I just hope I don't make a complete ass of myself and hug them and stuff. I miss them.

Oh yes I did!

Bundling up for a early morning walk in, what was it? Maybe 20 degrees? It is a chore to make sure I'm going to be warm and I don't forget anything. All the while the dog is jumping around like a kangaroo because she knows she's going on a walk.
I went into my office to grab my hoodie and what did I see outside my window? Another dog walker out in the cold. I'm not crazy after all. That is until I saw this dog walker, a woman, bagging up her dogs poop, as well she should, especially when it's my yard. Only my dog is allowed to poop there.
I threw my hoodie on and as my head came out the hoodie hole I saw the unbelievable. The woman bagged the poop and threw in on my lawn. Who does that? Why bother bagging it when you're going to leave it? Bagging it is the worse part. Swinging it around while you walk isn't pleasant but it's odor is contained by then.
I jumped into action,
"Not cool, not cool."
"What?" the husband said as I ran past him and down the stairs to the front door.
I opened the door, the woman and her dog were almost 2 houses away when I yelled,
"Are you going to leave that bag there?"
She jumped a little, turned around and said,
"Oh, I pick it up on my way back."
The hell you say, not buying it, the dog and I readied ourselves for the hunt.
The boys have told me back in the summer when they were cutting the grass that they had found bags of poop in our yard before. I just found the offender and she wasn't getting away with it anymore. HA!
Out the door I let the dog take a whiff and away we went hot on the trail of the poop bagging bitch. I have way too much time on my hands and perhaps I am a little crazy but we found them. They were on the other side of the street, I made my way to the corner partially hidden by some bushes and called the husband,
"She's on her way."
"Babe............"
"Fine I got this." And I made myself seen.
She crossed the street and picked up her plastic bag. Booyah! I scared her. Oh yes I did!

Farvel Cargo's most noteworthy and best top 10 posts of 2011

It was hard to narrow them down to just 10, but it should only take you 3 or 4 hours to read them. Some of them have links to other posts. Drop what you are doing and get to it.

1. Help I've fallen and I can get up but would like some assistance
2. It just popped open on it's own
3. Please wait be back in 2 minute
4. WILSON!!!!!!!!!
5. Which button, which button?
6. I have this ball bouncing around in there, smacking the sides of my skull and rolling around my brain rendering me an idiot
7. Oh, this Twinkie thing, it ain't over yet.
8. Raising aging parents 101
9. Inferno Review for Brent
10.Lessons Learned the Hard Way

The amount of posts I've written each years has gone steadily down. So my goal is 100 post this year. Be prepared to be entertained.

Don't touch that.

I have to post this before I can finish my Christmas shopping. I've been given a deadline, by the husband who has suddenly become interested in my blog in a confrontational way.
I've been called out on my dead squirrel post and my defenses are up because I have yet to fully develop my thick writer's skin. I'm still under the false assumption that everyone loves my writing and agrees with everything I have to say. It's a nice little wall I've built around myself, although I welcome a brick being kicked out now and then. I can probably take it.
Back to the opposition and the negative review of not just the husbands but others, who shall remain nameless but you will be able to tell who they are because they will most likely not be able to contain their comments on FaceBook. As I sit typing I can see the spot where the dead squirrel is haphazardly covered with leaves on third base, most assuredly decaying in the unseasonably warm temperatures. I imagine, and I have a healthy imagination, it's covered in creepy, crawling creatures that feed on the dead. You can almost see a wave of germs seeping into the air and slowly spreading into the neighborhood. It lays there decomposing waiting for little Bobby and his friends to find it, poke it with a stick and start charging the neighborhood kids a dollar to see the dead thing on third base. If it was still on the street where roadkill belongs, it would be squished beyond recognition and it's remains would have been consumed by the vultures in the sky. That's how nature works with wild animals. I want to be clear, wild animals.
It is a mothers nightmare to think of her child poking dead things with a stick and dear God what if they touch it? Since they learned to reach out with the right and the left, we've told our kids,
"Don't touch that."
The fate of the world rests upon us moms teaching our offspring to leave dead animals untouched. They have dead germs. The kind of germs that spread out of control from little Bobby, the host, to all his little friends and then to their customers who paid a dollar to see the dead thing. These children take the dead germs home to their families and before you know it we have the Zombie Apocalypse, which I have been telling you for years is inevitable. I just didn't think it was going start across the street.
I hope this clears up any confusion on my roadkill theory.

From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude files, #4815162342

You wouldn't think that a couple of Chinese dry cleaning immigrants would be able to afford a half a year vacation. Apparently mine can. Once again I stopped for my 4 shirt and the strangers were there. This is a little unsettling for me. Here are my reasons:

1. These younger Dry Cleaning "fill-ins" seem to have a firmer grasp of the English language. The failure to communicate was the reason The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude and Her became regular blog fodder. I miss them.

B. When or if they come back, will I have to retrain them on how to say and spell my name? It took about a year last time. I'm getting all misty just thinking of the old days when I tried to explain "Seese with an S" to them. The thought of starting that all over again, well it's exhausting.

So at my last visit I inquired again and the strangers told me,

"Uncle and Auntie decided to stay for Chinese New Year."

"When the hell is that?" I said with my inside my head voice, my outside my head voice said,

"Oh." Then I scrunged up my entire face and asked,

"When is that, exactly?" I thought everyone had the same New Year, I mean I get calendars with my Chinese take out and they coincide with my calendars at home.

"At the end of January." She informed me.

All right then, another month and a half with the strangers. One day in February I will walk into The Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes and he will be back there with the ominous shirt presses and she will be telling me 'have nice day'. All will be right with the world. I just hope I can contain my excitement when they get back, I miss them and their ongoing contribution to my blog.

This is a WTF situation

I hate to call it writers block, being at a loss for words, because it's my own fault. I'm easily distracted, there's bright and shiny lights outside now. All I needed to do though, was look past the pretty colors right out my front window to see the next post that had to be written.

The family and I looked out there this afternoon, scrunched our eyebrows together in udder disbelief, looked at one another and collectively said,

"Do you see what I'm seeing there?"

We all agreed it was something we never expected to see and that I should blog about.

"But where do I start?" I asked.

"A picture?" Boy #3 suggested.

"NO." The husband adamantly objected. I was already on my way to my camera, but stopped. I'll try to paint you a picture with my words.

The dog brought it to our attention with a low guttural growl, she was perched on top of the couch looking out the window with great interest. Boy #3 took a look.

"Huh."

Boy #2 took a look.

"Did that guy just hit that squirrel?"

"Yep." Boy #3 replied.

"What's he doing with it?

"Huh?" The husband took a look.

We have a "common area" across the street, one of several in the development and this guy picked up the squirrel he hit with his car and carried it over there.

"What the fff."

"Language!"

"Mom, this is a WTF situation. You have to say it here."

"Not necessarily, let's see what he does next."

"What the "freak"? He's burying it with leaves? Does he think no one can see him? It's daylight, it's 3:00 pm on the main road and there are people driving by and dogs barking. Who is this guy?"

"I should have my camera right now and film, not taking pictures, this is YouTube gold. It would have gone viral."

"NO." He's no fun, the husband.

The guy kept grabbing hand fulls of leaves and dropping them on the dead squirrel that he so lovingly dropped under a tree, where children play. Actually I think that tree was third base when my kids played over there.

"He's burying it on third base." Boy #2 said to Boy #3.

Yeah, it was third base when the boys used to play there.

Okay so the guy has his car parked on the side of the road causing traffic to slow, the neighborhood dogs and ours are barking, it's daylight and this guy decides that after he leaf buries the dead squirrel he needs to squat down to a puddle of muddy water and wash his hands.

"See this is why I carry the little bottle of cucumber/melon anti-bacterial hand sanitizer gel in my purse that you guys say stinks. I'll bet he wishes he had some of that now. You know to remove the smell of death from his hands."

It isn't like no one has never seen a dead squirrel in the road, it's a common occurrence. I guess this guy was trying to do the right thing? No? Or he's just bat crap crazy. Nevertheless I need to thank him for bringing kookamonga right outside my front window, I barely had to move to write this post.

Guest Blogger?

Farvel Cargo is looking for Guest Bloggers. I am having a hard time keeping up with my 2 blogs Farvel Cargo and View of Sue plus blogging for Skirt magazine. Along with trying to write a book and short stories seeking publishing. GAH!
So specifically I would like to open my blog up to new bloggers. If perhaps you've thought of starting a blog and are hesitant you can post here. Or if you just have a humorous story you would like to share.
All I ask:
- The post needs to be humorous, because this is a humor blog.
- You need to be on FaceBook, because once submitted on my blog it is immediately posted on my Wall via Network blogs.
- Once the post is on my Wall, "share it". Yes, all your friends will see it and I will get traffic to my blog.

Private message me on FaceBook or leave a comment here on this post if you are interested. This could be fun!

This is where the early morning chaos ensued

This morning was wet, damp and unseasonably warmer than one would think. A day that gave you the impression that it hadn't made up it's mind on what season it wanted to represent. So whatever one decided to wear while walking the dog would probably be wrong.
I really don't get much time to think of what jacket to put on in the morning for our walk because the dog is impatient, she will actually bark at me if I stay in the bathroom too long. We are out the door within 10 minutes after I roll out of bed.
We took a left at the end of the driveway, deciding on the condo route this morning. It's quiet back there and I can bounce ideas off the dog without too many people thinking I've lost it. I have lost it but I like to keep that to myself.
Everybody must have got up early today because I'm pretty sure I said good morning to about sixty-seven people......... okay 5 people. I have not run into the crabby woman lately, but I ran into another older woman who was dressed up and seemed to be waiting for a ride. This is where the early morning chaos ensued.
As we turned the corner and saw the woman waiting for a ride, I let out a cheerful,
"Good Morning."
Up ahead there was a woman in her pajamas, wrapped in a bright red robe and attached to her on a very long leash a big Dalmatian. So while my attention was on the woman waiting for a ride, I was also making a mental note of the big Dalmatian and the red robe lady, so was the dog.
The woman waiting for a ride nodded towards me and the dog and replied,
"Good Morning, that looks like a new dog in the neighborhood."
"Oh no." I said as I was walking by, "We just like to walk back here because it's so quiet."
That right there is funny when you think of it because it was anything but quiet. As I turned my head back to the road the Dalmatian began to lumber towards us dragging the red robe woman behind him. I grabbed my dog by the collar because she doesn't put up with any shhhh...... crap and she protects me. The dogs were face to face growling and barking. And the red robe woman was still trying to catch up with the Dalmatian. Being the smart ass that I am I said,
"Clearly you don't have control of your dog."
"No I don't." She replied. Doh!
Further up the road a man had his truck half in his driveway and half in the street, hindering the progress of the woman waiting for a rides.......... ride. She impatiently laid on her horn because I guess she thought we couldn't see her car barreling towards us. I ran across the street still grasping the dog by the collar, I was quite certain she wasn't going to stop. The horn was a 'get the hell out of my way I'm not stopping for nobody' warning. They must have been going shopping.
It all happened so fast, the chaos. I found myself thinking of pepper spray the rest of our walk. Wondering what the laws of carrying pepper spray entailed. This is the first time the dog and I have encountered a run away dog on a leash, but we've run into our share of unleashed big dogs. Can I squirt them in the face with pepper spray?

Lessons Learned the Hard Way

I can't remember the date or the year I just know it was summer. And it was Boy #2's turn to take the garbage out. So I asked him, you know, to take the garbage out. Two hours later I asked him again. And then what seemed like the sixty-seventh time I said,
"Take the garbage out now."
And I squinted my eyes and talked through my teeth, a trick I learned from my mother.
"But mom, it's dark out."
"Take a flashlight."
"But......"
"Don't go there with me, I've been asking you all day. No TV until it's out."
He took his time looking for a flashlight and I followed him where ever he went because the garbage was going out.
Once armed with his flashlight, he grabbed the bag of garbage and headed to the back yard, down the deck steps and toward the shed. I went on with whatever I was doing. One minute later I heard running footsteps on the deck, up the stairs, the doorknob jiggle a bit before Boy #2 burst into the kitchen. He was babbling incoherently, something about beady eyes and a growl. While he was trying to explain to me that there was a beast in our backyard a smell started to work it's way towards our house.
"Skunk? Are you serious? Everyone close the windows!"
The family jumped into action, slamming windows shut, running up and down hallways and stairs. Because we had no emergency plan should a skunk show up in our backyard. We ran around like chickens with our head cut off. Once we were all sure that every window and door was closed we assembled in the kitchen. Breathing heavily, we remained silent and our eyes darted around the room.
"I still smell it."
"Yes it's very strong, not like when your driving and you smell skunk. This close up skunk smell is much more powerful."
I looked at Boy #2 and said,
"You probably scared it away, it's probably more scared of you than you were of it. And you looked pretty scared, you should have saw your face."
We all had a good laugh as our eyes watered from the stench.
"By the way," I asked, "Where's the garbage?"
"I dropped it and ran, flashlight too."
I rubbed my stinging eyes and then my forehead,
"So you provided it with dinner and light to dine by?"
We all made our way to the windows in the back of the house, trying to get a glimpse of our smelly backyard monster. We could hear some cans clanging together and some shadows moving in the glow of the flashlight. But it remained unseen, leaving us with only our imaginations to wonder what was going on back there. I was sure I'd never get Boy # 3 out of the house ever again.
"Guess who's cleaning up garbage tomorrow and bringing the garbage cans into the garage?"
"Me." Boy #2 admitted.
"And why might that be sweetheart?"
"Because I didn't listen to you."
"Uh huh."
Another lesson learned the hard way.

Inferno Review for Brent

On a Saturday afternoon road trip the husband was asked to stop in a restaurant for a late lunch to see if it was worth the drive. Uh huh, we do stuff like that and take pictures, then I blog about it. What can I say, we're givers.
The Inferno claims to be a Gourmet Burger Bar. Right there I was scared.
"Inferno? Is it spicy? I don't like spicy."
I could tell the husband was concerned because he didn't answer me or he was ignoring me, he does that too.
Gourmet Burger Bar, let's dissect that.
Gourmet: The menu was filled with Burgers named after well know cities. I guess that is where they can claim gourmet.
Burger: Yes, there were burgers and lots of them.
Bar: Here's were they get tricky. There is a booze bar and a burger bar. You can order a Snickerdoodle Martini in a carmel lined glass, dusted with cinnamon and you can take your non-city named burger up to a burger bar and load it with whatever you want. See picture of my burger with mushrooms, melted cheese and lettuce. Pickles on the side and just waiting for me to squirt ketchup on it. The husband chose a pretzel bun, because he's adventurous. He said it was good.
So we give the food a thumbs up. It was delicious and not spicy.
Scenery: You could call it "Almost Hooters" the waitresses were dressed in black tank tops and Daisy Duke shorts. Of course there were Flat Screen TV's everywhere but, as the husband pointed out, only showing one collage football game and if you are "hip to pop culture" some other TV's were playing big hair 80's band videos. I hate Journey. You could only hear the 80's music not the football.
Price: Normally I don't pay attention to such things because if I do then the husband asks me how much of a tip he should leave. This sends my brain spiraling out of control into a Math coma. Math is hard. So I waited until we got home to ask him about the price and he said it was very reasonable. We did not belly up to the booze bar though, we had a long drive home.
So Brent, it's worth the drive.

From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude files, #7857-X3A

Good News, they are alive and well, vacationing in China, their home land. That's right I found out their ethnicity, Chinese. Shooting my Vietnamese Prison Guard in a Chuck Norris movie theory all to hell. I picked mother up for a day at the mall, she had Macy's gift cards burning a hole in her pocket. When we got in the car I told her we had to stop at the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes. She was excited about this because it meant I would blog about him instead of her. Because shopping with mother is a trip. She knows my weaknesses and pounces on them.

So I looked at her and said,

"This doesn't mean you can spray me with 5 different samples of perfume. And limit yourself to one maybe two if you want a ride home."

"What about lotion?"

"That all depends on how much you want my head to hurt and if you want me to start Nursing Home shopping."

Once in the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes parking lot I said,

"This guy hasn't been here in over a month, I don't know what's going on in there."

"Ask them where he is."

"I don't think they understand me."

I went in with my 4 shirt and $7 ah 20. Just as I suspected, strangers. I decided to try to break the language barrier and communicate.

"Are you under new management?"

And surprisingly the Chinese woman strung along a series of comprehendable sentences,

"No, uncle and auntie are vacationing in China to see their new grandchild. Be back in 2 month. That's seven dollars and twenty-five cents please."

Get right on out of here, not only did I find out they're Chinese, but they are old enough to have grandkids and my 4 shirt went up 5 cents.

The geek in me.

The geek in me would not let me continue my shopping until I took this picture. A glorious PEZ collectors item that is Lord of the Rings. It's on my Christmas list. As you can see it's fifteen dollars and something cents, which apparently is unbeatable. I think the price is a little high when you take into account all the characters that are not represented. But it's still a lot of PEZ.
Also staying on the road of geekdome for the entire weekend, I plan to watch the new show Once Upon A Time. This may end up on my other blog, View of Sue if I can remember the password to post there. It's suppose to be about storybook characters that fall upon a curse from Snow White's Evil Queen. They are brought out of Storybook land and into the real world and they can't leave there town called Storybrook and they can't remember who they are and time stands still............see every time I try to explain it to someone in the house they look at me with guarded concern and seem fearful of my sanity. But that's a good thing, I like to keep them on their toes. It's on in 15 minutes.
Don't forget to check with each other before you buy my Christmas present, I only want one. I will compile a list for the rest of you.

Damn my ancestors for choosing this God forsaken frozen tundra we call Northeast, Ohio

Did you know that there are people down south that are walking on the beach without shoes or socks in their bathing suits? Hmmmm? It's not fair. Damn my ancestors for choosing this God forsaken frozen tundra we call Northeast, Ohio. It's about 53 degrees out there and raining.
Yes, I'm home from the sunshine state, Florida. It was 88 degrees when we left. My tan is peeling off and I have socks and slippers on, the husband is wrapped in a blanket on the couch, we have yet to adjust to the real world. Oh and the car ride, that's a long drive. We are walking around like a couple 80 year olds. Dear God, my back.
I'm not sure when I will begin cooking again, I've grown accustom to people bringing me food, taking away my dishes and giving them money for it. I know that won't work here, "they" have to be hungry, we only left them with a gallon of milk and a loaf of bread. Tough love, they fended for themselves. My only stipulation was to take care of the dog. We left her a new bag of dog food, two boxes of biscuits and $10.00 with a sticky note on it saying, "DOG FOOD MONEY".
Since she was alive, well feed and showed no visible signs of distress when we got home "they" received real souvenirs instead of hotel soap. We also bought a bushel of oranges which we let them eat too. One was sick when we left and the other sick when we got home. So we have that to look forward to. Great to be home, really.

Poolside from Florida

I know it's been some time since last I posted, I've been vacationing hard. But now I have another "by the pool" post because I'm in Florida by the pool. Me and Panama Jack aka the husband are poolside. Those of you who know the husband might find it hard to believe that he's poolside. Let me paint you a picture because he forbids pics. I must tread carefully.

Since my molecular structure allows me to become golden brown with very little effort and just the aid of the sun, it's that big yellow thing in the sky for those of you up North that won't see it until April-ish, packing our beach bag today was a challenge for me and Whitey. He burns, peels and then burns again. We've been at the pool for less than an hour and I think I need to spray him down with SPF 70 again. He walked out of the bedroom with his button up, collared, flowered, tourist shirt and his swim trunks on, completing the look, sunglasses and flip flops.

I asked him where my husband was and what he did with him? Was he okay and who is it that is accompanying me to the pool today. While we've been poolside he's been excellent company and whoever he is I really don't mind sharing my corner of pool space with him.

It's the other people that have become quite annoying. They haven't shut up since we got here and I have no idea what language they are speaking. We pretty much understand none of our neighbors. The ones next store to us speak French, at least I thought it was French. But the husband, who took French in high school and says it's Portuguese. Since I've never heard Portuguese I can't argue with him. We agree on the Germans and the Mexicans. And these loud annoying people at the pool right now, we're guessing some kind of Arabic, because they have a dark molecular structure too. They don't need sunscreen. So really right now the husband is sticking out like a sore thumb. He's as bright as the sun, a ray of sunshine, if it is truly him. Whoever he is I am enjoying his company.

So the Florida Gulf Coast has seemed to become a beacon to the non-English speaking vacationers. With every car that pulls into the parking lot we've made a game of guessing what language comes out of their mouths.

A texting log of Day 1

The following is a text log of our first day of travel:
9:40 am: My text to Boy #1 and Daughter-in-law #1 - On the road. We have driven 1 mile and still getting along.
Daughter-in-law #1 - Yay I can't wait to see u
My text to Boy #1 and Daughter-in-law #1 - Preliminary plans are being made on first rest stop. Have to pee. Words have been exchanged on stopping for breakfast.
Boy #1 - LOL still in ohio
My text to Boy #1 and Daughter-in-law #1 - In WV. Didn't get breakfast. Dad said I haven't annoyed him yet and he thought I would have by now. He's getting on my nerves.
Daughter-in-law #1 - LOL ur making good time
Boy #1 - LOL he talkin 2 much
Boy #1 - How do you like the WV mountains
My text to Boy #1 - Sorry for the delayed response found an antique shop. WV mountains are beautiful.

This is when we lost contact with the world in the West Virginia mountains. When I got my signal back I added Boy #3 to the texting conversation.

My text to Boy #1 and Daughter-in-law #1 and Boy #3 - We are now at the yelling at each other point but laughing about it. The GPS is trying to drive us off a bridge because dad called her a bitch right at the start of our trip. We are now using the google map that I'm reading. I'm scared.
Boy #3 - Thats a great way to start a vacation lol

The GPS bitch just told us to turn right into a mountain. She hates us. She seems to be trying to lull us into a false sense of security and then pulling a quick right turn. I'm on to her.

We were making good time, about 50 miles away from our agreed area to get a room but hit a bumper to bumper stand still traffic jamb. Damn.
7:00 pm - We are uncertain as to what state we are in. At some point we missed the "Welcome to North Carolina" sign. The GPS lady really has us rattled.

Having a great time wish you were here!

Raising Aging Parents 101

If dad says he can get to the Emergency Room of his choice several cities away, like over a half hour away, faster than an ambulance, then he can. Get in the car and shut up you're wasting time and it's raining outside, just get in the car. So I got in the car and called Erv.

"I'm in the car, they won't call 911." He swore a little bit and said he'd meet us there. I don't know at what age the parents must become before they let their children start calling the shots but I can tell you, we're not there yet, me and Erv. In the car Erv called me again, "You make sure when you get there to tell them mom's having chest pains, they'll take her right away."
Me: "She is having chest pains."
Mom: "No, I'm not having them right now."
Erv: "Let me talk to her."
Mom: "No, I don't want to talk to him."
Me: "She doesn't want to talk to you."
Erv: "Tell them she's having chest pains."
Me: "I plan on it, really."
Holy Mother of God the drama. Once on the freeway the rain became heavier thank goodness for the car ahead of us, we could at least see his tail lights. That was until he pulled under a bridge to wait it out. Dad continued. He's going to give me a heart attack, isn't that ironic? Did I mention there was hail too?
Once mom was ushered to an Emergency Room holding tank, Exam Room M, I went to wait for Erv. We discussed our stubborn parents while tests were being done and I held on to mom's overnight bag. We've been through the drill many times before and knew chest pains meant a 24 hour observation stay.
To understand this picture you will need the aid of a previous post. It will explain our unnatural fear of infection. But if you're pressed for time, we clean hospital rooms that loved ones are staying in to make sure they are really, really clean. But mom forgot her bleach soaked rags when she packed her overnight bag. This is when the four of us stuck our heads together and improvised. We stuffed a rubber glove full of bleach wipes we found in a official looking container on the counter. That's Erv holding it and that's my dads shoulder in the chair on the left, they are so alike.
When we arrived in the 24 hour observation room and the nurse left, we frantically started to wipe down the room while mom sat in her bed pointing to things we forgot. You might as well do something with all that nervous energy.
The 24 hour observation and tests determined some kind of blockage so we moved to the Cleveland Clinic and a whole new room to clean. Some time in between the drive to the Emergency Room and wonderful outcome of one artery being opened up with three stints, I rifled through the closets and drawers in moms room and found these, taught Dad how to use a digital camera and convinced him to leave his cell phone on even when he isn't going to make a call, showed him where the 911 emergency button is and told him to use it when necessary. I'm literally dragging them through the 21st Century.