My Dog is Possibly Cooler Than Your Dog.

It would seem that this blog is called Graceful Grandma for a reason and that I most likely should, would, could blog about grandmotherly things.
But my grandson is fabulous most all of the time and it has been a good day when I can send him home happy and alive regardless of the laws of nature we shunned, the dangerous places on earth we naively explored and the junk food we consumed.
So what I'm saying is that while my grandmotherly escapades are delightful, they aren't always exciting enough to be shared with other humans or written about in a blog post.
Well, my life in general should rarely be shared with other humans or written about in a blog post, but here we are.
We don't always get what we want, but sometimes we get more than we figured on.
This post is about Baxter, my rescued Boxer dog.
Sweetest most loyal dog ever to be loved but dumb as a rock, any rock.
He is a dog that is fluent in excitement which translates into: fast running, full body snuggling, complete suction sniffing, jumping randomly like a gazelle, vigorous bum wiggling and especially....consuming mass quantities of food.
Wherever and whenever he can find it.
Take 2 days ago for example.
On the daily walk that I take with my dogs we found a ham bone.
Well, there was no 'we'.
It was all Baxter.
In the woods.
No where near a home... or garbage can.
I am pretty sure it was a store bought hambone and not remnants of a roadkill cause it appeared to have the blade marks from where it was spirally sliced and unless I'm completely out of the wilderness loop, coyotes have not yet learned to hold a knife let alone slice pork.
But you be the judge.


Mystical Hambone of the Forest.

Baxter would not let loose of the bone.
He carried it for the entire walk.
Taunted the other dog Eva with it, but would not let it go.
...Until it was time to go home...
He dropped the coveted bone only because I 'ewwwwwwed' loudly, said "No Baxter" and told him 'he could not take it home where it would get ham grease all over the rug'.
Well, that was what I told him, but what he understood was, and this is a rough translation " My mama hates this bone right now so I will leave it here in the woods till later so she will snuggle with me and feed me mass quantities of food"
Thinking that the bone would disappear overnight in the mouth of some other carnivore, we came home.
...And the next day...
We go walking again.
Dadgummit.
The bone is still here!
I then pick up the icky bone and throw it in the creek so the smell will go down stream and the crawdads can nibble it.
It is now down under moving water about 16-18 inches.
Perfect.
Baxter will never find it or be able to get it.
The walk begins.
Barely 1/10th of a mile into the walk here comes wet Baxter, ham bone in his mouth, running, jumping, laughing and singing in dog language because he rescued his beloved bone and can now add 'mer-dog' to his list of accomplishments.
He apparently sniffed out the location of the bone, held his dog breath and submerged his dog head completely to get that dadgum bone which is no less remarkable than if he had put on a doggy scuba suit and retrieved his treasure all Jacque Cousteau style.
That is totally amazing, awesome and weird to me.
The awful yet tantalizing bone was happily carried once more through out the entire walk.
I did not mind a bit.
I was actually kind of proud.
I let him keep the nasty thing, since it had been 'washed' and all and even let him bring it home where he chewed on it till it broke and splintered and I threw it away...into double bags and then put the bags in the BIG trashcan out in the garage.
The bone is now out of Baxters reach......Maybe....I have underestimated him before....
He was still noticeably pleased with himself and his day.
I was still proud.
Thats my fish dog.


Happy Baxter with his Hambone.



Thanks for being here.

Halloween All Throughout the Year.

Halloween is a much celebrated holiday for lots of folks in America.
My own family adores the dress up, the death inspired decorations and the opportunity to scream frequently and loudly with no one giving you weird looks.
Being scared on Halloween is a given.
It is expected.
It is also very overrated and I'll tell you why.
Being scared terrifies me.
To my nuclei.
No scary movies, no fireside ghost stories, no seances for me, not even the hiding behind doors and popping out.
But despite being the diva of dread I live in a haunted house.
Every day.
My house is haunted not because Indians used to wander on my property and their ancestors have the right to haunt any person, place or thing in America that they want...
but because I live with animals.
Several animals in fact and they consider it their job to embrace Halloween for the other 364 days.
They have the gift.
So if you crave a perpetual foreboding feeling or enjoy a daily near death experience, then by all means go to your nearby shelter and adopt yourself a cat or dog!
You can expect things like:
-Doors that eerily open by themselves all through the house even when there is no breeze or even an open window because things that lurk in the shadows think it will get your attention. It does.
-Spooky odd thumpings or scraping sounds on the walls and floors coming from wherever you are not, that stop only when you get the courage to look for the source.
-Strange moans and groans as well as an occasional high pitched whine, usually noticable only when you're all alone or when every other human is sleeping...hopefully just sleeping.
-Stumbling upon horrifying piles of what looks like slimy, grassy ectoplasm deposited frequently in the middle of human walkways so that there is no mistaking the fact that you are not alone.
-Finding objects on the floor that were not there a minute ago such as pens, cell phones or half finished cups of coffee, because the underworld is in short supply of these things and the floor is the last barrier to finishing off an undead's shopping list.
-Dogs that intensely stare out of windows while sustaining a low growl any time of day or night and you can't see anything unusual except the gas station that is 5 miles away because you are so creeped out and your eyes are so enlarged that you will probably have laser vision for the next 10 minutes.
-Cats that walk calmly by you as you eat your cereal, then suddenly try to scramble and run in speeds up to Mach 4, but their furry feet get no traction on the hardwood floor so they frantically skitter and slide and bump into things before they hastily disappear who knows where and they have left you to die because they will not share their hiding place and there is obviously something terrifying in your house this very minute !!
-Thrashing and swatting blindly at your face and pillows in the night after waking up to a phantasmal fuzzy intrusion that stops only after you wake up in a nightmare panic. Then after you turn on the light and find no intruder the spirit will return as soon as you drift off to sleep again to torment you with another vexing velvety nose kiss of doom. This incident is usually accompanied by a soft etherial noise strangely similar to purring and your heart that is beating so hard you could do push-ups with no hands.
-Food will go missing off counter tops and tables. You will find lick marks in the butter as well as evidence that the garbage can has been inspected for the last crumb or delicacy inside. But as hungry as these kinds of specters are, they are not hungry enough to learn how to open the fridge or manifest their hauntings when you are actually IN the kitchen with food.
-Barking frantically at the ceiling when there are no visitors, mailmen or squirrels visible and then calmly circling the rug and relaxing not realizing that instead of scaring away any poltergeist, the unseen have now been attracted to the noise are aware of our dwelling and my enormous goosebumps.

These heart stopping, breath holding, nerve wracking events happen without warning at any time of day or night regardless of the season and keep us humans who live here vigilant to our self preservation life style.
Living with animals is not for the faint of heart.
Beware.....


Terrifying.....


Thanks for being here.

I would love to hear of the mysterious things that happen at YOUR house!


*****UPDATE*****

My sister made this meme for me after she read my post.
It is too accurate not to share.....

"I don't always think it is the animals.....
So stay scared my friend, stay scared."

10,000 Views!!!

Not really.
I am at 9,999 views.
BUT.....
If you are reading this then.........I have achieved 10,000 views!!!
Granted at least 300 are mine....but the rest are you guys, my lovely readers!!!!!!
I can't begin to thank you enough!!!
THANK-YOU!!!!!!!!
Hmmmmmm..... Not enough....
THANK-YOU!!!!!! THANK-YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK-YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I CAN wonder why you all would give up 3 minutes of your valuable time to read my posts, but I can NOT express in mere words how grateful I am for you sharing your 3 minutes with me!!!!!
There are a lot of exclamation points in this post!!!!
This is so exciting!!!!

Thanks for being here again and again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Macy's Can't Have All The Parades...

Here in the South we are always ready for a celebration.
So when a parade needs some more floats to make the festivities last a bit longer
then we are up for the challenge.
Here are a few of the participants:


Mud is always a fabulous addition to the holiday lights.


A Christmas sticker properly placed makes any ride festive.


Who can forget the adornment of the traditional Christmas bear on the hood?

But before you roll you eyes and mutter judgement under your breath, maybe consider the following:
Recall if you will that humans thought it would be a good idea if a reindeer had lights.
That's illuminated wildlife people but we all think it's adorable.
We put lights and ornaments on fledgling lumber and display it in our windows like a trophy.
Sometimes our homes are also decorated and blinking with blasting syncopated music that aliens can only assume is some sort of intergalactic signal.
We love it and oooo and ahhhh.
A couple dozen decorated vehicles are what we got going on over here and it was marvelous.
There were of course, other real floats and Santa Claus as well as the Marching Band with a loud drum line that the grand baby thought was awesome.

Lights and decorations are important to humans and apparently we will put them on
anything because we are afraid of the dark and celebrate!

That is why we stood for
81 minutes,
outside,
in the freezing cold,
in the dark and
were happy to do it.

Merry Christmas!
And decorate like everyone is watching!

Thank-you for being here.

Looking for...not this!

Pictured below is the yearly result of having 2 (sometimes 6) dogs, one grandchild, 4 children, 2 busy adults, no maid and one large heavy barely moveable leather sofa in the house and you are now desperate to find one of your good spoons used on Thanksgiving that the grandchild thought was a great toy until it wasn't so he dropped it somewhere and no one can find it.


Dog and family secret lost and found.
Unedited for your viewing revulsion amusement!

17 balls.
6 dog chew toys.
1 child's book.
1 book cover.
1 Winnie the Pooh.
1 giant rubber band.
1/2 of an Easter egg.
1 beaver tail. Not real.
1 plastic cup.
1 plastic muffin papers holder.
1 part of a solar light.
4 grandchild toy parts.
1 squeaker.
1 expensive looking electronic part.
Some crumbs.
Several dust balls.

What's under your sofa?

Thank-you for being here.

First level of hell...Check ✓

There are some people who speculate that there are multiple levels of hell.
I have heard some folks say there are 7 levels and some folks claim 9.
But the hell I'm talking about today involves dogs, so that would be 49 or 54 levels of hell.
Which is way too many to think about.
I could not imagine it...until today.
When I survived the first level of hell.
Well at least a level of complete madness that happens to dog owners when the dogs in question act like their brains have been removed and replaced with bubbles.
---- ---- ---- ----
My daughter is at my house with her 2 very devoted dogs while she recovers from her adult tonsillectomy.
Even with a female family bloodline of very high pain tolerance she says her pain on day 6 is a 6 out of 10.
So I'm guessing that for the rest of the world it would be a 'kill me now, I'm begging you' out of 10 on the pain scale.
Very sad.
She is dealing with tonsil hell, but that's another story....
Any way to give her a break and a quiet house for a little bit, I decide to take her 2 dogs and my 2 dogs for a walk at the family cabin where they can run and play with abandon.....sans leashes.
Hahaha!
It is to laugh.
No leashes?
The no leash rule must only apply to dogs that actually use their brain.
Well my dogs immediately jump out of the car and head down the steep hill towards the creek.
My daughters dogs do the same.
Yay!
Every one is happy and ready to walk the trail.
Until.....
Dog #1 gets to the creek edge where the bridge used to be and stares at the rest of us who have excitedly crossed the cold, wet water and are staring back at her because...well, the bridge was gone and we weighed the other options.
After a delay of what seems like biblical proportions and numerous attempts to coax her to the other side, dog #1 decides her option is to turn around and prance back up the hill, the way she came.
Are you kidding me?
She was the most excited to go!
Well I can't let her go up the hill and be by herself because she also chases cars.
So I cross the creek again and climb the hill to go get demon dog #1.
The 3 other dogs follow me.
I get to the car and because she has no leash, I have to chase her around the car until I can catch and stop her by flattening her on the ground and quickly picking her up.
My eye starts to twitch a little...
She is small but heavy as a bag of rocks.
Yay, here we go again!
Got the dog under my arm and all 5 of us head down the hill to the creek.
Half way down, I realize that dog #2 is not with us.
So I call her.
She is usually much more obedient and most likely busy doing doggy things, so we all keep going and cross the creek again and wait for dog #2.
Nothing.
Call by name.
Nothing.
Call.
Nothing.
Whistle.
Nothing.
Dadgum it!
Why didn't I bring leashes so I could make them come with me and have a fabulous time like I'm having?
My upper lip starts to quiver.
Thinking that dog #1 will not possibly cross the creek, I leave her with my 2 dogs and I start back up the hill to the car to get demon dog #2.
Half way UP the hill there are 3 dogs following me.
Seriously?
Get to the top and grab dog #2.
I explain to dog #2 how this activity works.
She wags her tail, she gets it.
Ok...lets try this again.
I cannot carry both dog #1 and dog #2 to ease my fear of repeating this hike, because I have a walking stick in one hand due to the treacherousness of this crazy terrain that I thought would be fun.
Putting dog #2 on the ground and picking up for a second time, the now wet bag of rocks dog #1 under my arm, the 3 remaining dogs stay right beside me because they know I am now angry.
I am grumbling at them through my teeth, wheezing like a bear and stomping like a dinosaur down the hill.
We all finally cross the creek after 5 trips up and/or down the now seemingly gigantic mountain of a hill and they all start wagging their tails, sniffing everything in sight and sprinting in happy dog circle runs like they thought of this grand adventure all on their own.
No dogs...this was MY idea, but you turned it into a nightmare.
We take a short walk down the trail and I decide to go back to the car.
My soggy feet are cold and my fuse is short and even though I love all of them, they will not have too much fun today.
There you have it.
Stubborn, do whatever they want, leashless, bubble head dogs plus about 800 miles of mountain climbing and creek walking is my first level of hell survival story today.
This all occurred after I took care of a sick, sneezy, busy, stubborn, do whatever he wants 20 month old grand baby for hours and hours.
I'm going to bed.

Thanks for being here.


Left to Right, Dog#2 and Dog #1
Don't make eye contact.
They are searching for souls...

Just kidding.
They're looking for snacks...and bubbles.

Getting Stuff Done...Or Not....

Taking care of a grandbaby is a lot of tiring work.
Don't get me wrong.
Every minute is fun and full... of all kinds of things...but some provide a visual I don't want to go into here.
Even with every minute being full, nothing gets done.
Nothing.
Well not really.
Nothing gets done around here on a regular basis, but especially nothing gets done when my fabulous Jeplen is here.

Jeplen is taking a 'The Incredibles" movie break from our exhausting morning of getting nothing done.
I love that the head of Edna Mode can be seen in the mirror.
Love her.
Where was I?
Oh yes.
Feeding, playing, reading to, changing, tickling, snuggling with and chasing after Jeplen for hours leaves no time for straightening up anything.
Which takes it's toll on the state of the house...which was already mostly stirred up when he got here.
Have I mentioned my housekeeping skills before?
They are virtually nonexistent
I try.
I truly do.
But I'm kind of a rebel and of the mind that a clean house is a sign of a wasted life.
In my opinion.
Which is what this blog is about.
My life and my opinion.
Wait don't click out....
Sometimes I can be interesting.....
Anyway...
So things get stacked on top of other things.
Very stacked when Jeplen is here.
Things must be kept away from the toddler or they will be chewed on, broken, shared with a dog or simply disappear.
There is no time to put things in their proper place.
He was here yesterday.
For example:

Kitchen Counter
Stuff stacked from one counter to this one after I cleared off the other counter.


Stacked Stove.
Now there is no guilt about not cooking!

Don't judge me.
Nevermind...go right ahead.
I'm too tired to worry about it.
Besides, I'll just stack the judgment on the counter with the other stuff.

Thanks for being here.

P.S. Here is what things look like after he leaves so you won't judge me quite so harshly.

Blurry kitchen counter.
Because I was squinting.
My glasses got lost somewhere.

Found them.


Cleaned off the stove.
Dang it.
Time for dinner.

See you soon!

Exercise Smeckzercise

I'm no Doctor, I just play one on my blog.
So I advise myself as I grow older that planned exercise should be less and less of a priority with each passing day.
No not really.
I advise myself to exercise a lot and keep moving, but who listens to their doctor?
Not me.
Phyllis Diller inspired me with her quote: “My idea of exercise is a good brisk sit.”
I totally agree with her.
But it seems that mother nature has taken my jumping jackless attitude to heart and coerced my body into involuntarily moving.
With......
A weak bladder.
Not just the sneezing, laughing too hard, jumping on the trampoline kind of weak bladder either.
I have the get up in the middle of the night 8-10 times kind.
My routine burns calories by getting up and out and back into again a bed that is 12 inches higher off the ground than most beds.
I also work my abdominals by tossing and turning from side to side trying to delay, ignore or at least get comfortable for one stinking minute, each and every time the call of nature shrieks in the night.
I can really work up a sweat in 6-8 hours.
And nightgowns are the only clothing needed for this work-out.
During the day I can go for extended periods of time and not even give my bladder a passing thought...no problem, but once I grab a blanket and pillow and try to relax, then some of my organs think it's time to get busy and stop relaxing.
I could blame having children and sometimes I do.
I could blame aging and sometimes I do.
I could not blame anything and stop being a cry baby.
It's life.
It's involuntary exercise and that's better than no exercise at all.
So Mother Nature wins.
She thinks exercise is important and is going to see that my training gets done no matter what time of day or night it is.
She is a demanding coach who can't be ignored.
I have acquired some new skills as a result of her guidance too.
Getting around quietly in the dark has become a breeze, delayed gratification is practiced most nights and keeping fit with my many porcelain throne squats has given me thighs that any Spartan would be proud to have.
So there it is my friends.
Exercise comes in the strangest ways.
It's no triathlon or exercise competition, but every workout starts with a step.
Step out of the bed.
Hit the floor.
Turn right.
5 steps.
Turn right again.
9 steps.
Watch out for the dresser.
Turn left.
4 steps.
Turn left again.
2 steps.
Goal achieved.
Repeat 8 times nightly or as needed.
Doctors orders.

Thanks for being here.


After a Successful Night Workout.

Just kidding.
I have long hair.

The Night Time is the Bright Time.

Being a grandmother gives me the opportunity to take care of my grandson a couple days a week.
This involves getting up before most of the world and driving in the dark.
Which here in the mountains involves darkness that is v e r y dark.
Except when I'm behind a school bus.
Don't know what they have in your area, but we have buses that have a white strobe light on the roof that is bright enough to send a signal Mars.
I can only assume that it is to prevent other vehicles from crashing into kids or the bus itself.
Makes sense.
But only a little, because it is a freaking blinking nightmare that makes me drive all angry and squinty eyed while trying not to have a brain spasm as the intermittent flash penetrates every cell in my body.
I thought bright blinking things were banned as a result of the 1997 Pokemon anime that gave children seizures.
Not banned in this part of the world apparently.
Well now school buses aren't the only ones with these death-ray laser strobes.
This morning I was behind an emergency vehicle for 5 eternally long miles and it had not 1 but 5, count 'em, 5 blinking lights flashing in my newly awakened face.
Let me tell you gentle readers that all I could think of was "Don't crash", "Don't crash", "Look at the road", "You can do this".
Well that's not all I could think of, but my 'don't swear in public' rule, is pretty imbedded in my psyche and I don't want to burden you with my potty mouth.
Are folks driving and behaving so well that emergency vehicles are out for late night/early morning drives trying to drum up business?
No, that can't be the reason for the 'Lights of Craziness'.
I have known several EMT's and firemen and they really are a caring bunch.
Do that many people mistake emergency vehicles for just a regular vehicle and therefore they can crash it if necessary?
Dadgumm.
What is the world coming to.
The end of the five mile stretch was now in sight and the strobing vehicle was turning left and I was going right.
Just in the nick of time too, my brain was starting to melt and my will to live wanted to drive off the side of the mountain.
So I look over to see if it was an ambulance or a fire truck.....
It was a garbage truck!?!?!?!
A what?
Yes a garbage truck.
For One thing...How can the workers see the garbage when it is pitch black outside.
For Two things...Garbage will still be there when the sun comes up. Most of my garbage is pretty stationary.
For Three things...We are now protecting our garbage?
Garbage collectors deserve many more accolades and dollars than they actually get and my family appreciates their work immensely, but I was almost turned into a veritable mental basket case driving down the road while trash was being protected in a strobing vehicle of immeasurable lumens.
I'm all about protecting our kids and folks in the service sector but is 'Pokemon Shock Syndrome' the way to go?
Do people really not see the other 14 red and yellow lights placed all over the back of these working vehicles.
Maybe it's just me.
Maybe nobody talks about this interstellar vehicle signaling, brain disrupting, cartoon inspired system because after a certain sequence of blinks your memory is wiped of everything that happened for the last hour.
I'm just guessing.

Thanks for being here.


Psychotic Alien Inspired Warning Technology

Slow Down Time but Shorten Your Life Expectancy.

If you are reading this and you want to know how to slow down time down a bit
then just sit outside...near the woods...in the dark...by yourself...watching for meteors to fly by.
Each minute is long and terrifying.
It's like watching the movie Alien for the first time.
You know that the main character(the Alien) is gonna suddenly appear at any second but you can't turn away or close your eyes because if you do then there was no point in paying money to endure the torture.
Meteor showers are free but it is still the same type of torture and suffering, when you have to be alone in the darkness.
The sounds occurring in the dark night are unnerving but you endure them because the main character(the meteors) could appear at any second and if you go in the house then what was the point of getting up so early.
Maybe I like space because Earth has things that are creepy, crawly and curious but I can't escape from them or even move because I'm tangled up in a freaking blanket that is wrapped around my feet making it impossible to make a fast getaway when and if an alien animal ventured out of the woods and scared the bejeebus out of me.
There is something attractive about space though that makes me endure this life sucking, nighttime, outdoor fear, possibly because the universe doesn't make menacing noises that could make a person soil herself.
So I wait.
Trying to be an adult.
Searching the skies for the next piece of burning space debris to fly by my little treeless viewing hole that lets me connect to the great beyond.
And I wait.
Noise.
Just a branch falling?
Noise.
Was that closer?
If I look around or turn on my flashlight then I might miss a shooting star because I will look away from space and blind myself.
Be very still and if it is a bear and I don't move then maybe he'll go right past me.
Two noises?
Should I go in the house?
Maybe this is the wrong day?
I have to go the bathroom.
Where are all these meteors they were talking about?
I've been out here forever.
Let me check my phone.
It's been 3 minutes.
What?
I can't see.
OK. Eyes in focus again.
Hey, There goes one!
Not too big, but I'll take it.
Waiting.
There goes a satellite!
This is awesome!
I'll wait another little bit.
Noise.
Dadgum, what was that.
Noise.
Bug in my face.
Noise.
Please God, can't I be invisible when I need to be.
Ooooo. There's another meteor!
Excitement makes me brave and I wait some more.
YES! There is another one.
Noise.
That was too close.
Ok. That's enough.
Go in the house and make coffee.
I'm alive!
I saw 3 meteors and a satellite!
I gave up my sleep and body warmth but it was worth it!

It's been 15, maybe 20 total minutes.

Sheesh

Thanks for being here.

The next show is the Leonid Meteor Shower.
Peak time is November 17-18th
No aliens please.


The woods near me has some terrifying wildlife.

A List to Add to Your Lists.

I was thinking about my next birthday and the fact that I will be almost, kinda, truly very old.
So during my long journey I have learned a few things that I wish someone had told me long ago that I wanted to share with younger folks, who I've also learned don't listen to the wisdom of the elderly any way...so my thoughts make perfect blogging material.
This list (and you know I always have a list) was written in the middle of the night and seemed fabulous at the time.
Plus I was typing on my phone with the display/brightness turned all the way down so my husband would not wake up and derail my train of thought and then wake up the dogs with his sleepy voice questions and then the whole point of laying quietly in bed is moot.
Here is a copy of my mostly unedited list of things I've learned....so far.

-Be nice to people. It's hard sometimes, but if you're a jerk to a jerk, it magnifies the jerkiness of everyone's day and everything in your orbit.
-Invest in the best mattress you can afford. Life is hard and at the end of a sucky day your bed should be your best friend and always there for you to come home to.
-Linens too.
-Invest in the best bra you can afford. You wear it every single dadgum day so don't skrimp and be uncomfortable or droopy.
-Eat the best food you can buy or cook. Food is a pleasure and a joy. No guilt.
-Don't live in the past and that means your memory is a memory. Thank goodness for photos.
-Don't take anything personally and that means anything. Most people: 1) like the sound of their own voice, 2) are parroting something they've heard or 3) they're just mean. If they're just mean it means that they hate themselves already so you don't have to waste your time hating them too or worrying yourself about their idiotic comments.
-Don't believe everything you hear, see or read. If your gut tells you it's questionable then it probably is.
-Which leads to.....
-Question everything. Yes it drives some people crazy, but it was a short drive for them anyway. People don't wanna think things through anymore so question every single gosh darn thing until it makes sense.
-Except chocolate. Just enjoy chocolate because life is short.

Thank-you for being here.



The best hot chocolate in the world.
It will make you feel young again!
It's that good.
Paul's French Cafe in London

I Can't Seem to Catch Up!

I can't seem to catch up.
Every little task seems like 7 big projects.
When I can't catch up then I can't seem to write because my mind is full of 10 million things I have crazily deemed more important than posting on my blog.
The gray matter goes into hurricane mode and not one idea will come into focus, bubble to the surface or even fly by in a wind gust.
I have been busy traveling, so playing catch up at home has consumed my thoughts, my naps and all available scrap paper for making lists.
I can't seem to think of or remember a blog idea long enough to get at the computer or find a piece of paper AND a pen to write on that paper because my house looks like a hurricane went through it and I have to practically machete my way across any given room to then begin the process of documenting information in any way, so a blog idea has to be filed away mentally in the 'where have I heard that before' file that is usually cryptic and rarely recallable.
(That sentence was so long that I need GPS to get back to the beginning. Sheesh.)
If I do get one thing done it leads to 15 other mind numbing things that now need done as a result of the first thing and all 16 things are probably already listed on another list that I can't locate.
I think my brain fried as I tried to prepare for all the traveling I did because I am NOT a good traveler.
I stress.
I stress about leaving.
I stress about forgetting to bring something.
I stress about something I might forget to unplug.
I stress about crashing.
I stress about my pillow and loosing my glasses.
Let me sum up my stress and how I am before a trip with this reference from the What About Bob movie (which you need to put on your list of things to do because it is fab-u-lous!):

Bob Wiley: Well, I get dizzy spells, nausea, cold sweats, hot sweats, fever blisters, difficulty breathing, difficulty swallowing, blurred vision, involuntary trembling, dead hands, numb lips, fingernail sensitivity, pelvic discomfort.
Dr. Leo Marvin: So the real question is, what is the crisis Bob? What is it you're truly afraid of?
Bob Wiley: What if my heart stops beating? What if I'm looking for a bathroom, I can't find it, and... my bladder explodes?

That kind of stuff.

The endless stress has taken a toll on my brain cells by killing them outright or making them non-functional.
So I am trying to unwind, de-stress and get back into 'stay at home' mode.
I want to blog and write and compose a few thoughts, but my brain won't let me.
Neither will my lists.
So what is this post?
This post is me and my blogging self telling my brain, "You're not the boss of me!"
'Maybe you can catch up on everything before your next travel excursion', my brain tells me.
Hahahahahahaha!!
Good one!
Silly brain.

Thanks for being here.


This is me right now.