And then.....

I love blogging.
When I first started, it was kind of a rant blog.
Just between me and my brain during a dark era of my life.
No published posts, just a place to vent and try to put words to the things that made no sense to me.
Like trying to sift the stars out of the darkness to see if I could bring a speck of light to my messy life.
And then....
I deleted everything.
Every word.
I knew I had to stop writing about it because it would never make sense.
It was killing me.
That dark era will forever be a shadow monster that follows me around and growls to let me know it's real, but by deleting all the verbage I spewed, I can't look it in the face and relive the fear.
And then....
I got chickens.
Dadgummitt people, if you've never had chickens, you are missing out.
They are so much fun.
They are also a lot of work and a fragile link in the Mother Nature chain and soon became the focus my next blog.
It was really the beginning of my public blogging and my posts were less than eloquent.
But I enjoyed sharing their feathery escapades and my ignorance.
And then.......
The chickens were killed.
In broad daylight.
With my 2 dogs outside in the sun, oblivious to a cunning predator lurking in their yard!
It was devastating and the end of my blogging career.
And then......
My youngest daughter tells the family she's pregnant.
I'm going to be a grandmother!
It was exciting and new!
Especially for someone who was not supposed to be able to have any kids at all.
I'm now responsible for 2 generations of new humans.
Which also means I'm much older than I care to admit.
(but it's better than the only other alternative)
I can blog about both events, seeing as how they are happening at the same time.
Grandparenting and growing older.
New Blog!
And then....
A decision was made in my brain, that, like the cartoons I watch to destress, unwind and laugh with that I should get hit by a falling anvil while chasing a roadrunner.
Just kidding, the decision was for my blog to be the cartoon of my blog kingdom.
Life with laughter.
Stories with silliness.
Maybe it's my age and the preponderance of so many things unknown and unprovable that I can't seem to take anything, or at least very little, seriously.
My blog is a verbal cartoon of my world.
My hope is that you will chuckle with me now and then as we get through this life.
As my profile says..."I know I can do it if I'm laughing".


Thanks for being here.



Watermelon Vacillation....

Books.....

Books are very important to my family.
So much so that there are only very rare occasions when someone in the family is without a book of some kind.
We read them, listen to them, talk about them, pre-order them, share them, compare the books to the movie, read them again and rarely part with the good ones.
A good book salvaged at a thrift store is a major find to us.
The lively hood of this family even centers around a book.
We all love books and want our family's new addition to share this book joy.
So this happened....


Jeplen reads with Grandpa.


Eva wants to join in on the Story Time.


Baxter arrives late but loves a good story.

There you have it.
Toooo cute.
Another peak into my strange and marvelous world.
That book was read approximately 7 or 10 times in one sitting.
You are actually reading an online quasi-book right now!
There are all kinds of books.
Heart.

Thanks for being here.

Meow-Meow and Mongo

I am pretty sure that I have mentioned my 2 loving dogs in this blog, but I never went into much detail about them.
Someday I will.
They deserve it.
But today is not that day.
Today I will be mentioning my 2 cats.
In my opinion these cats haven't really merited an entire blog post mention but thats definitely not their opinion, just mine, so please don't tell them I said that or they will bite me in the night when I try to rearrange the covers.
Don't get me wrong, they are pretty good cats and very sweet.
But they also are needy and licky and sneaky and full of wet expendable hair that apparently needs to be on display for everyone, like Fine Art for your floors.
This artwork is sometimes on display in the foyer, in the middle of the dining room... the laundry room...next to the dog dish...the computer table...the coat closet.....whoa, that's enough.
You get the idea.
I now present, in fairy tale/tail mode, a brief version of their story:

Both cats are about 4 years into their reign over the kingdom I live in.
One rules over our castle(home) and the other rules over the enchanted forest(yard) surrounding the castle.
They were both abandoned in this kingdom while under an evil spell(they were sickly) cast by nasty trolls(the previous owners) within 2 weeks of each other.
We took them in, fed and groomed them for their royal duties and then quickly took them to the Mighty Wizard(the Vet) who helped heal them of their various afflictions.
Knowing that they would now live and reside in our kingdom, we named them.
The first kitten we called Meow-Meow, which translates in this kingdom to: "she who meows a lot and loudly".
Since she was the first to arrive, she chose the castle to rule from and immediately crowned herself 'The lovely Queen Meow-Meow of the Castle'.
She performs her self appointed royal duties by daily meowing, biting, grooming, knocking items off the counter tops that do not meet her approval, snuggling, coughing up her royal hair balls, taunting the jesters(our dogs), all while taking her daily regal strolls through the mighty halls of the castle.


Queen Meow-Meow Looking Lovely for her Kingdom


Queen Meow-Meow in her favorite castle window


Queen Meow-Meow wordlessly telling her subjects to bugger off

The second cat we call Mongo.
Yes it is sad name, but she was a sad abandoned kitten.
She was left outside the castle walls at 4 weeks of age in horrible condition with eye ooze, fleas, worms and a very tiny, malnourished, royal body.
When the Mighty Wizard (the vet) and the Royal Castle Doctor/Maid (me) finally healed her, she crowned herself, 'The lovely Queen Mongo of the Enchanted Forest'.
She loves ruling her kingdom, but because Mother Nature and Queen Mongo do such a good job together, we really don't know what she does in a royal day besides just hanging out on the patio ruling all she surveys or resting on a deck railing where she can be high off the ground and warm.
She does sleep in the castle every night because the enchanted forest at night can be very scary to a tiny Queen who's Royal Guards(our dogs again as Queen Mongo sees them) also sleep inside the castle.
This queen has trust issues, so she is rarely seen by any royal subjects and never by strangers.
She developed these issues after living with those horrible trolls during her youth, so no one may approach her except the Royal Castle Doctor/Maid (me again) and Queen Meow-Meow
Some subjects even make wishes on a rare Queen Mongo sighting.


Queen Mongo looking lovely in the Spring


Queen Mongo in royal stealth mode.


Queen Mongo being regal in the garden

So those are my cats.
Their story is true.
This fairy tale made from their story is silly.
But as a servant of this kingdom, I have been assigned the duty of sharing their story.
Maybe they do deserve a blog post, the cute little, purring, fuzzballs!
Heart.

Thank-you for being here.

To See or Not to See.

When I turned 40 a kind of switch got flipped in my body that signaled my eyes to stop focusing.
It occured while I was sewing and in one day I just couldn't thread the needle any more.
I had to squint and stretch out my arms and turn on all the lights.
I had been sewing every day during that time so it was quite shocking to me!
The 'switch' was really more of a dimmer switch though, wayward human functions that altered me slowly and a little at a time, with my eyes being the first things affected.
The rest of the body however, had been put on notice for future bodily experiences only mentioned in the scary stories told around nursing home campfires on dark, moonless nights.
Understanding the need for eyewear though has been apparent to me since I was a young child.
My dear sister had several operations for her eyes when she was very, very young and from then on she needed glasses to see the world clearly.
So for her, a shocking transition would be to NOT wear glasses.
I can't begin to imagine...
But when I couldn't focus to do my sewing and was told I needed 'readers', it was shocking to me.
I needfully bought lots of cheap glasses so that every room in the house had a pair for me and then got back on with my life.
Through the years my lens magnification strength number continually went up and up and UP, until I now have become an official, over the counter, maximum strength, eyeglass wearer, with my doctors promise that the next level is a prescription, including..... dare I say it....bifocals!
Shrug....Smirk.
Sounds nuts to react with only a shrug and smirk, but this is the 21st century and the bifocals nowadays are NOT your grandfathers bifocals, so I'm good and there are not enough days left on my calendar of life to be fretting about glasses.
Besides, I don't need them yet.
I'm still reading, sewing, cooking and blogging in my OTC 'readers'.
But when I go out to eat I, mostly, don't wear them.
I use them to look at the menu but take them off to eat cause they slide down my nose and I can't see the folks across the table with them on.
So no glasses means I can't see my food either.
I could be eating delicately seasoned and shredded used paper towels with a side of leftovers from the previous patron and I'd never see it well enough to send it back...and request delicately seasoned, julienned used paper towels .


Food With Eye Glasses Off

Yet, there are times when I DO want to see what I'm eating.
It is often so beautiful and delicious looking that I must gaze at it like a work of art.
I can see the spices, the fresh herbs and the little grains of salt I just added.
The meal becomes a different kind of experience.
Its mystical and divine somehow.
Sort of a 'someone turned up the dimmer switch' event.
So I'm good with eyewear .
Anykind.
And I'm good with appreciating good cooking.
Anykind.


Food With Eye Glasses On

Thanks for being here.

P.S. It was Eggplant Parmesan and it was fabulous!

P.S.S. Remember that Twilight Zone where all the guy wanted to do was read and his wife wouldn't let him and while he was at his job at the bank he goes into the vault and falls asleep and while he's in there the end of the world happens and he's not sad, he's excited because now he can read all he wants, any time he wants, but while he's lovingly looking at books his glasses fall off and as he is looking around for them he steps on them and breaks them and now he CAN"T read anything?!? Remember that episode?!? Boy, I sure do. Glasses are important people! But you knew that.

Going...Going....Gray !

Going gray with your hair is a hard thing to do.
It means admitting that you are not young anymore...to yourself AND to the rest of the world with eyesight.
But there is also a point in your life when there is no more camouflaging or disquising parts of your body to create the illusion of youth, because it is all moving south daily as if to get a head start on picking out your burial plot....soooo gray hair is the least of your worries.
When the decision was made to go gray, I had still been living in my 'youth' fantasy by retaining my 'youthful' blonde hair with highlights.
My hairdresser, Michelle, is fabulous with color and had done great job in the past of keeping my hair in its 20's, but it was time to let Nature do what Nature does.
So when I decided to go gray last year, see Gray Grandma post, and had to stop the blonde and grow out the gray, I had no regrets AT ALL.... except for those tell-tale blonde highlighted ends.
Bleeecchhh.


Gray Roots or Blonde Ends?

So I went back to Michelle, who is gorgeous and has fabulous blonde hair of her own, and let her 'cover up' the remnants of my youth.
I mean who does that?
We don't 'cover up' our young-ness, most of us cling to it like dog hair on a sweater.


Fabulous Michelle

So Michelle gave me low-lights and blended my gray hair effortlessly.
She has a gift.


Lowlights in Gray Hair.

No more blonde ends.
Or at least not nearly as many.
Keeping it long and gray is where I am right now and I love it.
Hope this post is helpful for those of you trying to decide when and how to come over to
the 'Gray Side'.
It's a blast over here!

Thanks for reading my blog!


P.S. Below is a pic of the process, in case you're curious...you know the time during your hair appointment when you can pick up a really good WiFi signal, maybe a cable channel or at least have protection from aliens reading your mind.


Lowlights and Alien Protection.

Amphibian Love

Spring is officially here and I am glad.
Spring welcomes the world with warm temperatures, flowers, green leaves, nice breezes and twitterpated wildlife!
'Twitterpated' is such a cute, gentle word and so appropriate for children to understand when talking about nature, but you and I know
that the word twitterpated is really a substitute word for  'booty call '.
And in the spring that booty call signal goes out to e v e r y - l i v i n g - t h i n g!!!
All day, all night.
Sometimes noisy, occasionally quiet.
But mostly noisy.
Nature doesn't need cell phones for a late night dial up, nature just SCREAMS out what it wants and screams it right next to our front door.
We now have frogs that scream out to each other, all afternoon and all night in their froggy voice saying:
 "HEY!...HEY!!..H E Y!!!.... MAKE AMPHIBIAN LOVE TO ME, ME, ME, ME!!!!
Our family built a small goldfish pond very close to the front door of our home and with each passing spring the frog population has increased in and around it.
This years community of about 16 large resident croakers scream their twitterpated balloon necks out loudest at night.
At least that is how many I could get a visual on last night with a flashlight.
They don't run from us or even care that we are there, in their space, with lights in their eyes, writing blog posts about their lustful habits.
Because they're not shy.
They will not hide their horny selves.
We have to always be careful not to step on them.
It is almost Biblical out there on the patio at night.
But we love them and frogs are in crisis around the world, so we give them our blessing and try to avert our eyes from the frog on frog pileups in and out of the water.
The froggy yelling is actually song like and if you can pretend that you don't really know what they're saying, it is very enjoyable......and LOUD.
So I took some night pics of one of our amorous residents so you can enjoy the spring with me along with a translated caption.


"H E Y ....!"


"HH EE YYY ....!!"


"I WANT TO MAKE....."


".....T A D P O L E S WITH Y O U !!!!!!!!!!"

Now this is just a paraphrase translation because I only watched Dr. Doolittle 18 times.
But I've been practicing and am now pretty fluent in amphibian.


Thanks for being here.

How Many?

The following interaction was overheard yesterday at one of my favorite places to eat, while I waited for a table:

Host: "Yes ma'am, how many in your party?"

Lady: "3 of us and them." She said this as she pointed to more adults and children coming
in the door.

Host: He silently watches the arriving new group, which was a whole passel of people in blurried motion trying to come completely inside, take off their coats and say "Hello" to each other, as the children were all scurrying around the entrance, greeting and touching each other.
He waits a bit, then he tries again.

Host: "OK, yes ma'am, how many in your party?"

Lady: "Well, 3 of us and them." She says it this time while taking her pointy finger and doing air circles around the 2 groups.

Host: "So, how many will that be?"

Lady: "Well....3...of...us.........which...includes...him......(pointing to the boy looking at the jukebox)......a n d....them." She says this while deliberately pausing and speaking slower so that maybe the Host will understand this time, all the while using her ever increasing in size, air circles.

The host walked away with his clipboard and didn't try again.
I wonder if they got any food.


Made me chuckle.
God Bless the restaurant workers.

Thanks for being here.

What Can I Help You With?

Thanks and apologies to all of you who read my rant post about gifts.
I am sure that you read it and thought.....
"What a grump!"
I read it again myself and thought, "You are one angry elf"
I don't know where that rankled post came from, because I actually love gifts, given and received and I am actually a pretty positive person most all of the time.
But not lately.
It must be the weather.
We have had ice, snow, rain, ceaseless cloudy skies, fallen trees, broken chain saws, no power for a time and some fun opportunities missed because of Mother Nature.
But ice and snow and rain and no power can be fun, something different, an adventure........
...for 10 minutes.
We have had 2 weeks of it, which is well past my 'fresh until' date.



My son tried to cheer me up and asked Siri, on his cell phone, to tell us a joke.
So she did;
"The Past, Present, and Future walked into a bar......it was tense".
I thought it was pretty funny.
Trying to keep the mood upbeat, I asked her on MY cell phone to tell us a joke and she said,
"I can't, I always forget the punchline".
Does she know me that well?
Was she having a senior moment?
Her response actually made me chuckle.
So I asked her to tell me something good and she replied,
"That may be beyond my abilities at the moment".
Mine too.
Thats why I asked for your help.
Siri must be depressed.
Which in a weird way cheered my up.

Thanks for being here.

P.S. Know any good jokes?

Another gift? I'll just stay home.

What the heck is going on with gratitude these days?
Everyone thinks a gift is the only way to show appreciation.
If you give a gift then it seems necessary that you get one in return.
Really......?

Used to be if you went to a wedding, you brought a celebratory gift for the happy couple and you got a piece of cake in return.
Maybe some peanuts and some good punch.
Now you get pens, candy, jars of honey, bottles of water, candles, lip balm and your name in a drawing for a new car.
Just kidding about the last one.
But seriously, what?

Kids birthday parties offer a smorgasbord of gifts.
You send your kid to a party with a G.I. Joe or Barbie gift and they come home with prizes for winning (or losing) pin the tail on the donkey.
There are gifts at the place setting while they wait for cake,
a treat bag full of candy, small toys to be brought home and stepped on with barefeet in the dark, a silly straw, balloons AND a tummy ache from ice cream and cake received in massive quantities, given out of gratitude for your gift.

You go see your dentist, and they give you floss, toothbrushes and toothpaste, stickers and a reminder for your next appointment.
Does that mean they think you need these things? Or it's just a 'keep up the good work' gift?
Now I don't believe for one minute they pass these things out to prevent tooth decay, thereby making their job unnecessary, it's a gift, so you'll think they love having you there and you'll forget you paid for that wimpy toothbrush with your $150.00 x-ray.

Now the Santa-cookie thing has been going on for decades and I never really understood it.
He brings the whole family gifts, we're talking boocoodles of things, and in gratitude we leave out 3 cookies and a glass of milk.
He comes back every year for this exchange?
Give a gift, get a gift I guess, no matter how unequally financed.

Let's also observe the gift rules on the dating scene.
At least what I understand about it in the media.
After a few or just one date, the young folks sleep with each other, as a way to say thank-you?
Let me ponder.....'I like you and I am so grateful that you would spend 3 hours of your valuable time with a scum sucking waste of space like me that I will risk diseases, infections, death, possible embarrassment and/or pregnancy to thank-you for my cheeseburger'.
If the date was that good, how bout just another date, tickets to an athletic event or a box of good chocolates?
That's about as equal as the Santa exchange.
This is a hard rule!

Going as a guest to someone else's home for lunch or dinner puts me in a fit of the shakes.
What kind of hostess gift do I bring?
(Yes I could say 'host gift' here as well, but let's go with my most recent frame of reference)
Will I bring something she has 6 of already?
Does my gift cost more or less than the meal?
Will she even expect anything?
It can't be a food gift or she will think I don't like her cooking.
It can't be wine or liquor 'cause some folks don't like what I like or they don't even drink at all.
A candle perhaps? Now she thinks that I think her house smells funny.
Flowers? What...now her house is too ugly?
Why am I trading gifts for food?
If I bring an extra thoughtful gift, could we swap it for the rug in the hall that I have always admired instead of the chicken salad?
I am just clueless about this.

Is it the rule now, of American culture, that if you get a gift you have to give a gift?
It makes my brain hurt.
How about a nice Thank-you note?
How about the fact that most people just like each other and want to spend TIME with each other?
Does a reciprocated gift ensure the friendship?
Am I so ancient and out of touch that my concept of reality has run naively rampant and unchecked long enough for me to believe that if I invite you to do something with me that I want no gifts, no anything, except for YOU to be with me?

I get the fact that gifts are nice now and then.
Thats what birthdays, Christmas and being in love is for.
But I am going crazy and broke keeping up with this other stuff.
Everything we do or accomplish does not deserve a gift, an award, a prize or a trophy.
It boggles my mind.
Should we get together, face to face, and talk about it?
Work it out over lunch?
Maybe, but I don't think so.
Even though your thoughts would be invaluable, the getting together part might involve a gift of some kind.
I'll just stay home and blog about it.
No gifts necessary.

Thanks for being here.


Jeplen with the remnants of too many gifts.

Blue Ink?

Dadgummitt.
Call me crazy but when I write notes to myself or letters or valentines or anything that needs a writing implement, I want it to be in black ink!
There are several other people in this house who also use pens and could care ZERO percent what color the ink is, so there are pens of every color at different places around the house.
So when my phone is MIA and turned to silent mode, that is usually the time that I need to make a note or a list...immediately...and can only grab the nearest pen and paper.
If I grab a black ink pen then all is right with the world.
If the pen has blue ink then my lip curls into a snarl and my note is scribbled as fast as possible to avoid seeing the dreaded blue ink.
I have always been a list maker/note writer so old age crankiness is not the factor here.
It's the ink.
I have always liked black ink.
Well to be fair, I like black anything.
I have lots of black clothes, a black picture frame wall, a black dog, black guest room furniture, was furious when my black iphone died on vacation and I had to get a white one and my husband has black hair.
So when I have to write a list and it looks like this:


Mongrel note.

you will know that I couldn't write another word until I got up and searched the house for a black pen.
...After a loud sigh...
Now blue ink is fine for some people.
But it just doesn't seem legit to me.
Books are printed with black ink.
Road signs are made with black ink.
The angel of death wears black. Would he seem as important if his garb was blue?
Black means serious.
When I write something down with a pen it means its important.
If the only pen I've got is blue, then I might as well just use a crayon in my opinion.


One of our pen stashes.

I'll bet half the pens in that stash pictured above are NOT black.
Why are they still in my house?
Because until I started processing these angry pen color feelings, I never knew it was an issue.
It's weird what becomes important to you when you're blogging........when you should be doing laundry or vacuuming or doing the dishes or dusting or organizing or exercising or cooking dinner or feeding the dogs or raking leaves or calling your mother or...........


Thanks for being here!!!

A Piece of Every Book Stays With You. Literally. For Days Maybe.

I have been reading and enjoying books since...forever.
Love books.
Share books.
Keep books.
Books are all over the house stacked on random things or on appropriate book shelves.
The ones all over the house have been read and are ready to be shared or re-read.
The ones stacked in my bedroom on every stair of the step stool or on the night table are 10 deep and waiting to be read.
I would read books to my children when they were old enough to sit up in my lap and notice the pages.
Many of those pages were consumed with enthusiasm.
Literally.
It could possibly be an undiagnosed medical condition, but all my kids started out chewing their books.
Now my grandson loves to chew his books too.
My home has specifically designed chewable items everywhere, but it seems that the books are the tastiest.
Every person has their own reason for reading and if deliciousness is Jeplen's reason for beginning his literary journey, then the edible way is the way it shall be.
Absolutely.
Until he can read for himself, it is imperative that his Grandfather or I read to him the words written on the pages of his books while he anxiously waits (or not) to nibble the pages, drool and taste the book corners till they are mushy and send chewed off bits of the story to his digestive track.
Books are important for a myriad of reasons.
Fiber being near the bottom of the list.
But high on the list, books can be an inspiration for the mind and my grandson will, hopefully, never be without them.



The Tastiness of Books.



Really Getting into the Story.


Thank-you for being here!

Lets NOT Read This Book Club........

Saw the following books the other day at my local 'sells everything store'.
Maybe you know all about these books, but I had no idea.
(Still wish that I had no idea)


Deliverance and Spiritual Warfare.

A warfare Manual ?
An entire Manual?
Really?
Is there so much stuff going on that it can be manualized for the masses?
Like a Girl Scout manual?
Are there cookie sales and badges involved?
Is the armor, sword and chainmail pictured on the cover supposed to beckon me?
Shouldn't love be the weapon of choice?
Are there too many question marks in this narrative?
If the title was Deliverance FROM Spiritual Warfare, then maybe.....
Plus I hear banjo music when I see the word Deliverance......
Rest assured that this is definitely not a title that makes me want to read this book.



The Demon Dictionary.

A Volume 2 edition???
Volume 2?
Now I feel like I'm taking Crazy pills?
I never knew about, was looking for, or saw volume 1!
And why is a human so familiar with hell, all it's doctrine and the creatures that dwell there that they can ponder, reference and alphabetize 2.....yes I typed the number 2 again.....books worth of demon information.
Is there going to be a volume 3 or 4 or maybe even....Encyclopedia Demonica?
If demons are bad......that's all I need to know.
No introduction or dictionary needed.
My demon education was completed at 6 years old when I watched the end of Fantasia.
Lesson Learned?
Avoid demons under every circumstance.
This book would be one of those every circumstances, so I am positive that I will NOT...ever...ever...ever....never....read this book.



How to Expel Demons, Break Curses and Release Blessings.

Expel, Break, Release.........Repeat?

This book sounds like you will stay very busy.
That's all I can type about this one.
This is definitely a 'Let's NOT Read This Book' book.

I am truly puzzled over the oddness and darkness of each of the 3 books of the books which I referenced above.
They were all together, like best friends, on a shelf.
They were all at discount prices.
They were all displayed in front of the romance books.??
They all truly caught me off guard.
I was looking for Lady Almina and the Real Downton Abbey!
Which I did not find.

I don't even look for any books at the 'sells everything store' anymore.
At all.
It's too scary!
I am obviously WAY out of touch with the interests in my community and I really don't care to get caught up.

A small shiver of speculation......
A quiet shudder at the thought.....
Followed by a good case of the willies....


Thanks for being here.