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.

I'm not an Alarmist but I am a Thinker

I am quite certain that by the time winter nears it's end, in Northeast Ohio that's April, I will be insane, but in a good way. Just remember I don't get out much and my posts lately are about me and the dog on our walks. So my imagination runs off on it's own at times and once I lose my grip on reality posts like this happen. I'm not apologizing, just warning you. Erv thinks I need to seek professional help.

_______________________________

I know what they're up to but I just don't know why. Obviously they are blocking off all our exits. "They" being the florescent yellow shirted "construction" workers and "our" being us, the community, the unsuspecting people of our development. Construction is in full force in our development. There are only two exits/entrances in and out of here. The dog and I have noticed an over abundance of detour signs the last few months. It has our spidey senses up a couple notches:
1. I think "they" are trying to confuse us with all the detours, one day the road closed sign is here the next it's there. Has no one noticed the hoops we are jumping through?
B. It's only a matter of time before they block both exits and feign ignorance. Then the florescent yellow shirts get switch with hazmat suits and were sitting ducks.
This means we will have to get out of here on foot and I'm not ready to shed my flip flop wearing days yet. I don't have a pair of hiking boots to wear when we head for the hills. I suppose I'll have to go doomsday shopping this weekend if there's still time.

From the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude Files #6,152

I don't know where the hell he is, I don't know. The last two times I've stopped in for the husbands 4 shirt Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude hasn't been there and to make things worse she hasn't either. There have been different Asians in there each time. I blame the husband. He's decided to go with polo shirts this summer and I don't think he's going to make the transition back to dress shirts for the winter. He seems quite comfortable. So he's wearing a dress shirt once, maybe twice a week. Cutting down my visits to the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dudes to barely two times a month.
With the huge language barrier I can't ask the "other Asians" WTF? Where are .......? I don't know their names. It's a dilemma, a worrisome dilemma. This could be the final chapter in the Scary Asian Dry Cleaning Dude Files. They are a constant source of blog fodder. I can walk into that Dry Cleaning establishment and walk out with an instant post. If my beloved, nameless dry cleaners are gone for good these new people better have something weird going on.

Next post, who the hell knows

There were a string of unfortunate circumstances that lead to the dog not getting her morning walk four days in a row. Which led to her unruly walk this morning. She doesn't understand "people problems" nor does she care to, it's all about her you know.
So I was ever so gently coaxed out of bed by the princess a half hour earlier than I would have liked. Actually I would have liked to get out of bed long enough to blow my nose, take a Tylenol Severe Sinus Pressure Caplet and drift of into an antihistamine induced sleep for the rest of the morning. But that was not to be. I did tell the dog while pointing to the window about the rain but she was relentless.
I got dressed, grabbed my phone, umbrella and the dreaded poop bag. It wasn't going to be a long walk but was sure to be eventful. Juggling a dog with pent up in the house to long issues and an umbrella was going to be a rude awakening, add a bag of poop and that's when the party begins.
I suppose it's her little way of trying to drag me out of my world of worry. You can't help but laugh at yourself as you walk down the street in the rain with the dog dragging you to an unknown destination, trying not to injure yourself with your umbrella as you take care of what she obviously has been saving up for me.
Next post, who the hell knows.

She's a known squirrel killer

The problem is the dog isn't a big fan of frolicking creatures that nature brings us to brighten our days. With the temperature cooling to the degree of "let's open the windows" Fahrenheit, we let the breeze and the crickets lull us to sleep. And in the morning we hear the birds chirping bringing us out of our slumber. It really is a sunshine and lollipops kind of atmosphere and adds a peaceful calm to the household.
But when a couple of geese decide to park themselves across the street from the house and squawk at irregular intervals, mayhem ensues. Since the dog is a known squirrel killer, she has an overwhelming sense of power when it comes to her turf. Her turf is basically the street we live on, if anyone dares walk their dog past our house she will let them know in no uncertain terms that they are intruding. She also has a white hot hate for skateboarders.

Wild animals really piss her off. They wander the neighborhood without boundries, she's jealous. So my morning and early afternoon consisted of squawks and barks, barks and squawks. The geese wouldn't leave until they were good and ready and now the dog is spent, sleeping it off on my bed, barely able to keep her eyes open. The know squirrel killer missed her mid-morning nap.

The Winn Dixie or Bust

Being a born and bred Northeast, Ohio native I can tell you that I am 92% sure that I have never visited a Winn Dixie. If I have, it was when I was young and on a family vacation. I may have been dragged in by my mother when we went south but in the recesses of my mind I cannot see a Winn Dixie in any corner of my brain. I may have blocked it out completely because when we were on a family vacation if I wasn't in the pool, I wasn't happy. I'm pretty sure I was a royal pain in the ass if we weren't swimming.
Our grown up vacation is getting closer, 5 weeks. We'll be in Florida to visit Boy #1 and Daughter-in-Law #1. Since the big trip is getting closer, plans are starting to form. I spoke with Daughter-in-Law #1 two days ago and told her that our hotel has a little kitchenette. And before I could say "groceries" she began to sing the praises of The Winn Dixie. She's taking me there to stock up my hotel kitchenette because, according to Daughter-in-Law #1, it's awesome. I'm stoked. Five weeks away from vacation and I already have a place to go. I've also requested to have breakfast at an I-Hop. Again, whether it's early Alzheimer's or I've led quite a sheltered life, I've never been to an I-Hop. Years ago before Lewis Black became popular I saw him on Comedy Central talking about going to the International House of Pancakes and decided I needed to go.

Jokes.com
Lewis Black - College Horse
comedians.comedycentral.com
Lewis Black Comedians Stark Raving Black Videos

I hope this video works I couldn't find it on YouTube, I might have to just give you the link.
So to recap, I will be in Florida in five weeks visiting the Winn Dixie and an I-Hop and I hear there's a beach around there somewhere too.

An idiomatic term for a claustrophobic reaction

I do believe I'm getting an early jump on:

Cabin fever it is an idiomatic term for a claustrophobic reaction that takes place when a person or group is isolated and/or shut in a small space, with nothing to do, for an extended period (as in a simple country vacation cottage during a long rain or snow). Symptoms include restlessness, irritability, paranoia, irrational frustration with everyday objects, forgetfulness, laughter, excessive sleeping, distrust of anyone they are with and an urge to go outside even in the rain, snow or dark. The phrase is also used humorously to indicate simple boredom from being home alone.

Although I display none of the symptoms above I feel them coming on earlier than usual. Oh and I'm starting to talk to myself.

They took my car away or I'd shop. Something to do with gas spewing out of Boy #3's car. Isn't that funny how all of a sudden his car becomes inoperable once I become unemployed? And I can't seem to find my shoes. Something is going on around here and I don't like it. Maybe I should take a nap, I don't think I've had my nap today.

Being a freelance writer is hard work, all you do is write. I write all day, except for when I'm dehydrating bananas. You know for the Zombie Apocalypse? You have to travel light remember. See my last post if you don't know what I'm talking about. It's the next post down, you're not getting a link just scroll. The problem with these dehydrated bananas is that they are really good. I'm eating them as fast as I make them. I'm going to have to start making them everyday. But I don't have a car. Gah.

What day is it?

Oh, this Twinkie thing, it ain't over yet.

Finally I got to watch Zombieland. This is kind of, sort of a movie review and has no business being on the is blog. But only 2 people read this one, so I'm thinking even less read View of Sue, I haven't posted there since May.
But I have an unhealthy fixation on Zombies and feel compelled to warn the world or the 2 people that read my blog, of impending doom.
Since I don't believe in coincidences, my frightful weekly trip to WalMart has lead me to the realization that we haven't much time. Learn these rules and know them well:

1. Cardio
2. Double tap
3. Beware of bathrooms
4. Wear seatbelts
6. Cast iron skillet
7. Travel light
8. Get a kickass partner
12. Bounty paper towels
15. Bowling Ball
17. Don't be a hero
18. Limber up
21. Avoid strip clubs
22. When in doubt, know your way out
29. The buddy system
31. Check the back seat
32. Enjoy the little things

I do know how to count to 10, this is a list from a Zombieland website. The character, Columbus has a list of zombie survival rules he came up with that helped him survive the zombie apocalypse hence becoming one of the very few survivors in America. Not all rules were mentioned, these are the ones that were.
Woody Harrelson plays Tallahassee and this is where I got spooked. Tallahassee is in search of a Twinkie, throughout the whole movie he's looking for the last Twinkie in America. The rest of the world is just not mentioned in this movie. They are either going through their own zombie apocalypse, continent by continent or the good ol' U.S. of A is on their own as usual.
Let's get back to the Twinkie. I finally get these boys of mine to watch Zombieland with me after we got rid of the husband for the night. He had to work late but refuses to watch Zombie movies, he's going to be the first to fall prey I fear. I thought it would be funny to buy a box of Twinkies while shopping today. Aisle after aisle I filled my shopping cart with the essentials, bread, milk, Pepsi, a head of lettuce, dog treats, Peach Daiquiri with alcohol in it that you just freeze and enjoy, cheese, hamburgers, and the list goes on for a weeks worth of food. All the while keeping an eye open for Twinkies. I doubled back and back again, "Where's the effing Twinkies?"
I've come to the conclusion that people are stock piling Twinkies, coincidence, I think not.
This is Reminderville, Ohio saying good night.

The unmistakable sound of chaos ensuing in the kitchen

There is always a small sense if loss when you break a dish or a glass while you are in the kitchen doing said dishes. It's an "Oh damn it, now I have to clean up shards of glass" moment. And sometimes "Damn there goes the set" moment.

Close your eyes and picture, if you will, the very top shelf of dishes. Got it? Okay. I was unloading the dishwasher and I reached up to put a glass bowl away, everything on this particular shelf was glass, can you see where this is going?

One of the little dohickeys that holds up each corner of the shelf popped out sending the entire contents of the shelf careening down to my head, the counter top, inside of the dishwasher and then onto the floor.

"Oh damn it, now I have to clean up shards of glass."

Taking into the fact that I've had several small accidents this summer, I'm starting to fear for my life.

The unmistakable sound of chaos ensuing in the kitchen aroused the attention of the husband. He rushed in and took a bowl off my head, then paused. I don't know if he just didn't know where to start or was taking in the scene unable to comprehend what had happened. Once he saw my face I believe he regained control because he started throwing broken pieces in to a bag, fast. He was avoiding my inevitable reminiscing of the broken pieces. Because everyone knows that the top shelf holds objects of things not often used or the "good stuff." He was diffusing a situation, which he's very good at. He turned the conversation into that damn dohickey and where the hell was it?

I'm not certain of just how much I lost during the kitchen chaos. I suppose I'll find out when I go to reach for something up there and realize it's missing. Also I'm walking around barefoot today so I'm sure my next post will be that of how I stepped on a piece of glass I missed when I was cleaning up shards of glass.

Bringing funny back

I think I got it back. I emerged out of my hermit-like existence today, if only for an hour, but out of the house and away from my computers. Thank you Harry for the link, it helped more than you will know. Things drop in your lap when you need them, this I steadfastly live by because they are the gentle nudges towards your path in life.

Less than a week of being jobless and I expected the money to come pouring in, patients my precious. Yes, I've already begun to talk to myself, but just one extra voice in my head and I think that one has always been there anyway.

My joblessness is explained here on http://www.skirt.com/. FaceBook had a reminder on my wall to fill in my place of employment, so today I filled it in. Unpublished Freelance Writer and I made myself the President/CEO.

While I write I've also decided to get back into eBay, so anything that has dust on it around here is getting listed. I also have those T-Shirts I made but I'm having trouble with the link where you can vote for it. I'll be working on that. Ebay and the T-Shirts are on the left column of this blog.

My list of writing pieces is growing. The next one to write is, honest to God, hand on the bible, when I was ask for my ID at WalMart. I was innocently buying a sinfully delicious Peach Daiquiri frozen slush mix, which reminds me I have to go buy a case of them, and the young man ringing me up asked for my ID. And he was serious, really. I pretended to be hard of hearing so he had to say it again, louder.

What is now known as the knee incident

If we'd all adhere to basic driving laws of the road then I wouldn't have a bathroom counter filled with various wound paraphernalia, damn it. If drivers in their SUV's would realize that their windows are tinted a tad and a person on a bike cannot necessarily see if they are being "waved through" then I wouldn't be screaming in the husbands ear as he pours peroxide on my knee, damn it.

It's totally half the SUV drivers fault that the rest of my summer is ruined. I will take partial blame for carrying a beach bag and a can of Mountain Dew while riding my bike on my way home from the pool. But if the indecisive driver would have just, you know, made a decision at the stop sign, I would not have had to stop abruptly and wipe out my knee. It's a mess and I'm not going to look good at the pool or in shorts the rest of the summer, damn it. It's unbecoming, a bandaged up knee, you know.

Cat fight at the pool but no Russians

Well I had other plans here at the pool today but when you have two girls arguing behind you, invading your every waking thought then they must be made fun of and made fun of they will.

If you are going to argue with each other and mom on the cell phone to audible levels as such that every one at the pool can hear, I believe your words are up for grabs.

I think a friendship may be crumbling right behind my back. One of them is trying to explain that "plans change" and the other one is trying to explain "her side of the story". Now one is on the phone trying to find a way home. It's a small community, walk off your frustration honey.

Thank you God for the bazillionth time for giving me boys.

Can I just go off topic here for a minutes? A family just walked in and was pool-ready as soon as they dropped their stuff. They must be reading my blog or they are as pool savvy as I am. Bravo pool savvy family. There is hope for all humanity, I've righted the world.

The girls have quieted a tad or they are getting drowned out by all the people that have been filtering in. Or someone is actually drowning them to shut them up. I have to admit the thought crossed my mind. Either that or just bang their heads together. Banging heads together works with boys. Does it work with girls?

With the girls incisive yapping quelled, I was able to get to the matter at hand, check on the Russians. I didn't hear anybody say vodka so it was safe to say the pool was Russian free today, at least while I was at my post.

Monitoring suspicious behavior at the pool continues

Someone has to do it and I've taken it upon myself to keep an eye on things while I lay here tanning and swimming.

I think one of the Russians are here and I have eyes on her don't you worry. She's a very large woman and she's been in the pool the entire time I've been here. Over two hours in the pool, she's going to wrinkle up pretty good. I think she's exercising.

Since I've had her under surveillance she started off circling the perimeter of the pool, no doubt on a scouting mission. Who does she think she's fooling? Now she's walking back and forth, from one side of the pool to the other, she got in the way of my laps. Actually some Americans got in the way of my laps too. I wanted to say to them all,

"Hey! I'm swimmin' here!"

Pardon my digression.

I made sure when in close proximity of the exercising Russian, I made eye contact. At least I think I did, we both had sunglasses on. She also had on a baseball cap. Suspicious? Damn straight. I'm going to have to come back here tomorrow now, just to keep an eye on things.

But now I must get going and give up my surveillance post, I have to get over to WalMart and check up on the morons. My work is never done.