Archive for the ‘Writing’ Category

Gibson: MEOW!  MEOW!  MEOW!  circling my feet trying to trip me “Feed me, feed me, feed me, put my food before me now damn it, feed me!”

 (Gibson is cute but what an attitude!)

Jack: Barking and jumping and wiggly butt “Oh Mom you’re home! I missed you!  Can I have a cookie? I am SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU!”


GIBSON:  I set his food dish down and he takes a nibble of his food and glares at me “you and I need to have a little chat about things around here”

Jack: BARK!  He spies the cookie in my hand “Cookie!  What do you want?  Big speak or little speak? My paw? The other paw? A kiss?  Please hurry!  I love those cookies you buy for me! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!”

Jack jumps on my lap and proceeds to wiggle and lick my face:  “I love you so much, I didn’t think you’d ever get home to me! Can we cuddle for a little?” “You are so beautiful and I love you so much!”

Gibson at my feet: MEOW “where’s MY treat bitch? What gives?, you gave him a damn cookie! MEOW!  What about me? I mean really! I do RULE here!!”  MEOW “Oh, by the way, a scratch on MY head would be a nice, but just for a second, got it?” MEOW

As I wander to my bedroom to change, Jack follows with energetic enthusiasm:  “Mom I am so happy to see you! I was so lonely today without you!  Have I told you how beautiful you are?  I don’t think I tell you that enough!”

Gibson follows too, meandering at a slow pace: MEOW “Listen, I want fresh food, and I want it NOW.  MEOW!  The dish you sat before me is leftover from this morning, even though it is that dry crunchy shit you think I like, I do prefer it FRESH from the container.  MEOW!  NO leftovers for me.” MEOW (said with squinty eyes and sarcasm)

Gibson: MEOW “And another thing, because you left me alone with that annoying little sappy DOG all day, I decided to shit outside my litter box.” MEOW

Jack sitting on my bed watching me with those sad puppy eyes: “I’m really sorry Mom but I did a bad thing today.  I had a “cat cookie” that fell out of the “cat-box cookie jar” today.  I know you don’t like me to do that but I had absolutely NO self control whatsoever.  I swear Gibson puts it on the floor on purpose just to tease me and get me in trouble.  I am truly sorry Mom, I will try not to do it again. How about another kiss?”

I pick up Jack from the bed and walk out of the bedroom, Gibson dashes to walk in front of me:  walking a slow KISS MY ASS pace.

Gibson wanders over to his dish, gives me a glaring side glance that would make a mouse fall over dead,  and begins to eat. After two bites he finds his hiding place naps.

Jack, he’s HAPPILY ready for anything I want to do tonight!

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I miss my…

Mom’s warm smile and loving personality

Dad’s mischievous nature and infectious laugh

Kids as babies

Brother, and everything about him

Nephew and his awesome hugs


I miss…

Living less than 10 minutes from the beach

The house I grew up in

Tucking my kids in bed at night and reading to them

Being tucked in by my Mom and Dad

Being able to eat anything and everything and NOT having to worry about fat, calories, cholesterol and weight gain


I miss my…

Grandfathers garage full of paint cans

Mammaw’s swing

Mom hamburg bar-b-q

Mom’s family speaking Pennsylvania Dutch


Grandmothers country farm cooking


I miss…

The book swap libraries at the marina’s I used to visit

Sleepovers at my both of my Grandmothers homes

Watching the sunset from the bow of a boat

Holding my Grandmothers hand

Rascal, my husky


I miss…

My Dad calming me down after I skinned my knee (but I don’t miss him ripping the band aid off)

Picking on my brother, in our adult years (it got wicked at times)

Having a garden and a patio

Having a tea party with my Dad

Having a back yard picnic with Mammaw



My dolls

Playing a ridiculous card game called “Donkey” with my parents and aunt and uncle (laughed until I cried)

Going to the beach every summer with my family when I was a kid

 The innocence of my childhood and not having a care in the world


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Jumping in the car this morning, I turned on  a local radio station that is already playing Christmas music, 24/7.  It wasn’t until I pulled out of the parking lot that I realized I ran out the door a little too early.  Shocking if you really knew me in the morning.  Anyway, by the time I park my car at work, this old Christmas tune is playing,  Johnny Mathias, “The Christmas Song”.  I was transported back in time.  Seriously.  I sat there and saw my Mom as though it was yesterday.  In her skirt, heels and hose with an apron tied around her waist.  The couture very 60′s!  Beehive hair-do, and frosted nonetheless!  On the kitchen wall was the cat clock that wagged its tail and moved its eyes as it kept time.  Dad in the kitchen helping my Mom mash the potatoes.  In the living room my grandparents sat with my brother and me playing with our new toys by the silver tree I disliked.  Our stockings hung on the bookcase shelves because we didn’t have a fireplace.  On the rooftop was a Santa in his sleigh with all the tiny reindeer, and Rudolph with a red lightbulb for his nose leading the way.  The house was framed in those old-fashioned large bulbs.    And on the record player, a Johnny Mathias album.  “The Christmas Song” filled the house along with the aroma of a turkey dinner cooking. 

And as I sit here typing this, I remember the same album playing at my Grandmothers house.  She is baking cookies and wrapping her gifts so precisely that the gift wrap pattern matches, you cannot see any seams.  And the Nativity scene.  That is one of the things I love the most about my childhood Christmas memories.  I would lay on my belly and just gaze at Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus.  Oh and I cannot forget the ribbon candy!!!  She always had ribbon candy.  I didn’t think they made that anymore but someone brought some into work last week.

Hope you all have pleasant and happy Christmas memories too!

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Or so says someone at work today.  We were talking about shopping for Christmas gifts, especially on Black Friday, buying decorations and putting them up, and so on.  He was not happy.  But I have to agree, Thanksgiving, in the commercial form, has definitely been forgotten.  I’d like to think that as families and friends, we still have the true meaning of Thanksgiving in our hearts.  The stores have indeed done their best to re-direct our focus from Thanksgiving to preparing for Christmas.

I have always loved Thanksgiving.  Family and friends are together, the food is incredibly delicious, and it gives us a time to reflect on how blessed and fortunate we truly are.  But I have to admit, I also love preparing for, and beginning to celebrate, Christmas.  I have fun on Black Friday shopping with my bestie and spending the weekend decorating for Christmas.

Christmas seems to bring the best out of most people.  The human race seems to be more considerate and thoughtful of those less fortunate.  Why is that?  Why can’t that heartfelt caring for other humans carry throughout the year?  I love to hear about people that are helping others, donating food and gifts.  So if this is what happens with the early arrival of Christmas preparations, is it really all that terrible?  I don’t think so.  But I do think, as my friend at work, that we need to hold onto Thanksgiving ~ embrace the traditions and celebrate one holiday at a time.

So I will be cooking dinner for my son and his girlfriend, and you can be sure that they will know how thankful I am to have them in my life, I’ll most likely visit some friends and my niece as well.  And yea I’ll be shopping on Black Friday. 

Oh, and another thing, I challenge you all to make a donation of some sort through the upcoming holiday’s.  Whether it be food donations, dropping off toys, anything to help someone in need.  Get out there and embrace the holidays, show those that you love and care for that you are blessed to have them and help those in need.

Happy Thanksgiving!

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Took Jack for a walk on this spectacular autumn day.  He pee’d for a block.  On everything.  I didn’t think he could hold that much urine in his bladder.  Guess he proved me wrong. 

He pee’d on 10 telephone poles

He pee’d on 8 sign posts.

A couple of concrete walls

He pee’d on 4 hosta plants.  This one was a long shot.  But it helped enhance his manhood.

By now, I’m feeling kinda lonely.  I know, stupid.  But he doesn’t even acknowledge me.   I completely don’t exist to him right now.  All I want is a little of his attention.  I call his name and he totally ignores me.

He walks crooked too, I don’t think he likes the hook of the leash laying on his back, so he walks crooked.  It’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen him do!  Is there an app for that??

He pee’d on 3 plots of grass.  He poo’d too but I didn’t take a picture of that.  I figured that was something you didn’t want to see, I know I didn’t.  But I’m his personal pooper scooper.  So I have to…

He also pee’d on ivy plants that were smothered in fallen leaves.

He pee’d on an iron fence post.

And he pee’d on 1 barrel flower-pot.

The End

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Time to leave Boston and head on over to my aunt and uncle in Mystic, CT.  I love CT!  Haven’t been there in years and I’m very anxious to see the area again and visit with my family.    

So I’m waiting at the track for my train.  I met this incredibly sweet retired couple from Scotland that was visiting the states.  They too were traveling by train, must be how come I met them at the train station, their destination was Boston, NY and DC.  Their words of wisdom to me were “You Americans take so much for granted.”  And I whole heartedly agreed!

Busy busy Boston train station!

Then a pigeon wandered around.  I think he lost his ticket and was in a panic.

When this train stopped, the conductor jumped out I asked him if it was my train.  His rude response was “NO ma’am, this is NOT Amtrak.”  Well thank you very much buster and you go on and have yourself a super sweet day.

The train ride into CT was beautiful but it was raining steadily!  Saw lots of water and boats anchored out.  I loved anchoring out in lonely little coves when I lived on a boat.

It was pouring by the time I got off the train.  We went to this cute little place to eat, it was called The Mystic Market Place…… I think.  The deli/market shelves were full of products you just can’t buy at the regular grocery store.  I could have packed a suitcase with all sorts of yummy items!

We spent the day catching up and relaxing.  But the rest of the trip was busy!

We started the next day with a stroll down by the docks looking for some fresh fish.

Not this fish!!!

Then we hit the streets of Mystic.  I love the old seaport town!  The homes are beautiful.  The air is crisp and clear.  And there is water.  Sea water.  Sea water immediately relaxes me.  Maybe I should have put some in a bottle and brought it home…

Ran into this little cutie at the coffee shop.

Then we attempted to go to Stonington beach.  Just a small beach but nonetheless, a beach.  The last time I went to this beach it was for a picnic.  The storm that ensued was one of the worst lightning storms I have ever seen.  And now, here I am again, sitting in the car looking at the beach and still not able to enjoy it.  No storms today, but the winds had kicked up and were throwing waves against the rocks so hard that just attempting to get out of the car would have caused me considerable harm….I would have been soaked and possibly blown across the sandy parking area and tossed over the other cliff.  We decided to try the beach another day.

We went to the Mashantucket Pequot Indian Museum.  Wow.  We spent all afternoon learning about the indian tribe, in fact we closed the place but we still needed more time to finish everything.  Here’s a little info about what I learned:

It was rumored that the Pequot indians were not a very nice bunch, in fact, rather mean.  Dutch traders began a prosperous with the tribe in the early 1600′s.   A little later the English made their way to trade with the Pequots as well.  An english man made his way to the New England area and began to kidnap the women and children selling them into slavery.  He was quickly eliminated by the indians.  Englishmen returned looking for the heads of the indians that killed the man.  Eventually the english and the Mohegan indians attacked the Pequots practically wiping out the tribe.  Those that survived were sent into slavery, some to white men and some to other indian tribes.   In the early 1900′s there were about 66 Pequots left.  66.  Awful.   Those of you that are interested in more, google it, lots to learn, a few twists on the story depending on the website you visit but you will still get the history.

So the remaining Pequots did their thing with the federal government, got a huge piece of land, and those that could prove they  were at least 1/16th Pequot were allowed to live there.  They have a huge hotel and casino and the museum of course and this tower with views that were gorgeous.

On the drive back home we passed the eastern Pequots.  They could not prove their 1/16th and now live in poverty~shacks and run down trailers.  Sad.

The following day we hit some wineries.  My love of wine was probably home-grown within my own blood line.  My grandfather made his own wine, it just comes naturally I guess!  

Yummy wines!

We also visited a cider mill.  I have to tell you they make the very best apple cider I have EVER tasted!  We watched their entire process of making the cider. 

Had to have an apple doughnut of course and we took home apple dumplings and cider for dessert. 

We drank fresh cider as we strolled around their adorable little store.

I finally got to Stonington Beach and wiggled my toes in the sand.  Still kinda breezy but I still was in the sand!!

And then it was over.  I was back at the Mystic train station.  Saying my goodbye’s, fighting the tears, shouting I love you both before I disappeared in the train.  *insert hysterical sobbing

I just loved traveling by train to the New England area.  It’s been wonderful vacationing, sight-seeing and learning some of the history of the new England states.  I did however, end my lovely trip with a little dance on the escalator. The day I was returning home,  I did a little tumble back down the up escalator, thanks to the wheel of my suitcase getting caught.   I have the bruises to prove that a quick visit to Penn Station can be damaging to one’s ego.  Seriously though, I was in shock, the last thing I cared about was what people thought.  It was horrific.  I thought I was gonna get sucked into the New York escalator system for lunch, chewed up and spit out.  I thought I would end up making the 5 o’clock news.  I also ended up with sore muscles.  And a damaged camera.

Bruises and ouchies aside, I can’t wait to go back to New England!

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It is with deep regret that I announce…..”Cleaned out my fridge tonight”.  And it really frightened me.  I did not like what I found.  My love for cooking usually has my fridge full of food, some of it already prepared lovingly with my own hands.  And, some of it not prepared~meaning fresh veggies sitting on a shelf waiting to brought out into the light,waiting to be chopped, diced, seasoned, sautéed, grilled and devoured.

How could this happen I’m wondering.  I love to cook.  And I hate to waste food, it’s throwing good money away.  Delicious fresh fruits and veggies and jellies fill my trash can tonight.  The pooch is just waiting for me to turn my back…he watches me with one eye while pretending to be napping, planning his revenge for not getting his walk in tonight.  I know the routine.  I’m on to him, but that doesn’t mean that I occasionally slip up and forget to take the trash out before I crawl into bed.  The sneaky scoundrel. 

But tonight, oh tonight I found not so pretty things.  Things that didn’t smell good.  And things that were a teeny bit fuzzy. 

Here’s what I found: 

a jar of my favorite salsa, only about a quarter of the salsa was left and I had a tear in my eye as I poured the once delicious salsainess (I love making new words) down the garbage disposal.  It was beginning to grow penicillin for a pharmaceutical company.

a container of refried beans that I had intentions of using for my mouth-watering quesadillas.  Dumped with disgust in the trash.  Okay maybe not with disgust because it really didn’t smell good.  So yea disgust is the correct word.  It wasn’t pretty. 

about 6 strawberries that were shriveled with age, one I am sad to report was growing a beard.

half a green pepper and a whole red pepper was starting to show its age.  Wrinkles were forming, no botox please.  I quickly chopped and diced and sautéed for some recipes in a day or two.

about a tablespoon of goat cheese.  Ugh. The silkiness and smoothness of the cheese gone, dried up because I didn’t have the package closed properly.

I found about 2 cups of chicken broth that was still good so I made my yummy brown rice recipe.  And I will be adding the sautéed peppers.  Good lunch for tomorrow.

Also found a half of a huge white onion.  I chopped a portion of that and added it to a can of tuna.  More lunch for tomorrow.

Then I shockingly found my hardly used jar of ginger jelly.  I had a meltdown.  Really I did.  I puddled on the floor and sobbed for what seemed like hours.  I managed to crawl to the garbage can and toss the jar.  I couldn’t let go of it.  I don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight.

Came across an almost empty jar of hoisin sauce.  Couldnt even open that jar.  Tossed. :(  Could have used that with my peppers.

A small container of OJ.  Smelled okay but the expiration date was a month and a half ago.  Gone.

And lastly, the remaining half of a cucumber and an open bag of baby carrots.  The cuke was gross.  The carrots dried and cracked,  how long have those suckers been in there???

The freezer field trip is next.

I hide my face in shame and embarrassment…..

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Not so sure I really want to share this with total strangers.  But I do!  I want to share it with everyone simply because it is so funny.  It cracks me up.


It’s a good thing to have when you have to have surgery.  And it’s a funny thing to have when you have to have surgery.  At least to those that are standing around you while you are laying semi-naked on the operating table.  Those total strangers.  Men that you don’t know.  That within a blink of an eye (while you are under the influence of said anesthesia) will rip away what little pieces of fabric there are left, separating you from those strangers.  And then you are exposed.  In all your glory.  There is no dignity in the OR.

My morning started with no coffee.  No coffee.  I thought of making a pot just so I could take in the aroma but I knew I could not trust myself.  I could NOT be trusted.  Off to the hospital I go.  My nurse hands me a gown and tells me to remove all my clothes and put the gown on.  Everything, I ask?  Everything, she says.  Even my underwear I asked, with slight confusion?  Yes, she says with a smile, even your underwear.  Seriously, I’m just having lumpy things removed from my arm and legs.  Really?  Yes really.  I was tempted to leave them on anyway but like a fool I listened.  I should know better by now.  Just go with my gut and I’ll be fine.  But then I’d have nothing to blog about.

Eventually the surgeon comes in to “mark” me.  He started to lift my gown to look at my legs and I grabbed his hand stopping him, telling him that I have no panties on.  He just smiled and went about his business.  Doesn’t anyone care that I have no panties on and it really bothers me that my whoha might be exposed?? 

Then I’m wheeled into the operating room, the very cold operating room.  All my “male” nurses waiting for me.  One of them begins to cover me with oven warmed blankies.  (I want an oven blankie warmer thingy for Christmas) The anesthesia doc must have begun drugging me because all of a sudden I am completely relaxed and feeling drowsy.  Good, knock me out and get this party over with. 

Next thing I know, I hear the doc asking me if I can feel anything and if I’m doing okay.  I tell him I feel tugging on my arm and my hand with the IV hurts.  He says he just gave me more………..and I’m out. 

Then it happens.  I am horrified.  I hear the doc ask me again if I’m doing okay but suddenly the blankets are ripped from me.  I feel my gown being moved up.  I started yelling I DONT HAVE ANY UNDERWEAR ON I DONT HAVE ANY UNDERWEAR ON!  And I’m out.  Until I feel them spread my legs!!!   I’m mortified!!!   Completely and utterly mortified!!  I hear the doc ask me again, are you doing okay.  And all I can say is I DONT HAVE ANY UNDERWEAR ON I DONT HAVE UNDERWEAR ON!  Either someone took pity upon me or they wanted to shut me up but one them covered my goodies with a rolled towel.  THANK YOU I say.  And I’m out again.

I don’t wake up again until I’m in my room to recover and now the nurses are looking.  But now I don’t really care since I am in lala land.  Until I get a glance of my friend sitting in the chair and I panic that he might see so I start pushing everyone else’s hands away from me.   He is just a friend and has never and will never see my whoha.  HAHA.  

Like I said, no dignity and everything exposed.

The End.

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Yummm!  I have wonderful memories of Labor Day at my parents house.  Nothing fancy, nothing more than just tradition and family and Mom’s cooking.  I have always loved Mom’s hamburg barbque, she made the best.  And no recipe!!!  But I think I figured it out!  From as far back as I can remember she made that barbque, deviled eggs and baked beans.  Dad would still fire up the grill  for chicken or burgers and baked potatoes.   I hate to say this, forgive me Mom, but my deviled eggs are better!  The ingredients are certainly different from what she used. 

Every year she made a huge pot of barbque, there was always a gazillion people, family, that would be spending the day together.  By the pool.  Laying around watching TV.  Kids running around.  Always at my parents.  I remember plenty of weekends where it rained and rained, but it didn’t stop the gathering, or the food.   It was tradition.  So, in honor of my parents I’ll be making her traditional Labor Day weekend menu, minus the beans, never was a baked bean fan!

I hope you all have a wonderful holiday weekend and can reminisce on holidays past.

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Not a Spring Chicken!

I had quite the ultimate……. remark made to me this morning.  Alright, maybe it was more of an insult!  After dropping Jack off at the doggie day spa this morning, I ran back home for coffee, breakfast and a quick check of emails.  Thinking I was going to have a rather pleasant day, I drove the car to the dealership for my 3 month/3000 mile oil change.  I am faithful on the oil change.  Always have been, always will. 

I went to this guy once who was very honest , he inquired about the distance I drove, etc and he honestly told me that I could go more with the 3000 miles rather than the 3 month oil change.  Great!   My car was the best, never had problems with it and it was about 10 years old at the time.  So I thought I’ll just not worry if I go to 4 months but still keep up my traditional scheduled oil changes.  Old habits die hard right? 

Then I bought a new car and the dealership suggested 3 month oil change or 3000 miles if that happens first, to keep all the engine parts running in top condition.  I’ve been following that regulary scheduled visit for well over a year.  Except this time around I am about a month late.  My bad.  Been a tad bit busy this summer.  But today, oh my.  Was I in for a shock.

So I arrive a few minutes early, with my book and more coffee, and I settle in.  After about 45 minutes this kid comes out and says to me “M’am ((and I HATE being called that)) you were just here at the end of April, you’re not due for another year.” And he just looks at me.  And I just look at him.  Thinking he is slightly confused from all the car fumes he inhaled this morning I very politely tell him that I am not here for an INSPECTION but rather a regular oil change.  He agains calls me “M’am” and I want to sling my coffee in he cute little young face, he proceeds to explain to me that he is just trying to be nice and save me some money but really I don’t need the oil change.  It may be 4 months since my last oil change but I still have a good bit to go to hit the 3000 miles. ” Hmm” I say, “I’ve been doing the 3 month oil change since I bought the car here, even get a coupon for the next visit in 3 months, why was I told to do the 3 month when its not really needed?”  he again explains I can do the oil change but I don’t need it.   My old habit kicked in and I told him to do the oil change, especially since I have already been here for an HOUR!!!! 

One chapter in my book later I am called to get my car.  I pay my bill ask for my keys and the clerk says that the car was just brought out and the tech has the keys.  Soooo I head outside for my insult.  I mean car.  Poor kid.  He kept digging himself deeper in the mud pit that I wanted to push him into.  He hands me my keys and again explains that I really don’t need to change my oil that often.  He says that, and I quote, “Not that I am comparing you to a senior citizen BUT older folks just don’t drive around that much and in that case you don’t need your oil changed but once a year.”  I just looked at him, smiled, grabbed my keys from his punk little hand and got in my car.  I watched him as he walked away, he actually turned around to watch me get into my car.  I wonder if his employer knows that he was doing his best to insult me AND avoid the 3 month oil change that they recommend?

Okay, now you’re probably wondering just how bad did I look today right?  Well I was definitely not at my best at this point in the early morning but I did take a shower, put on a little make-up, I had my hair in a ponytail and had one of my yoga shirts on which shows a little cleavage.  I also carried a stylish coffee mug (my coffee deserves to be trendy too), a very stylish purse and a cell phone that the elderly wouldn’t even attempt to figure out.  I don’t get it.

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