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Archive for the ‘Reasons I’ll need Therapy’ Category

Eons ago, I’ve seen my readers Avatars I’m sure it was from before they were born, there was this strange little fellow who did guest appearances on variety shows.  Okay, let me explain that concept.  Variety shows were a combination of – well, variety.  No, everyone has talent singing show, but just one or two acts singing.  A comedy sketch was done and, what became, stand-up comedy.  Sometimes they did sketches, which were micro-mini stories, told in a humorous way in less than five minutes.  It’s the only time I have ever really liked short stories.

Anyway, there was this guy who came out on stage, all by himself, brave man, and would recite a poem he had written.  He would do an Ode to ____, anything. 

Now that you have had your television history lesson, I will move on to the electric skillet.  Also, eons ago, I think for my first wedding, we got an electric skillet.  This was a honker of an electric skillet, solid steel, weight a ton and held four inches or more of grease.  It was great for everything.  You could pretty much do without the stove top with this thing.  I fried pork chops and steak and shit on a shingle.  Ah, make that meat, in gravy on bread (if I remember right).   It looked rather like this:

Electric skillet

One day I discovered I could make homemade donuts.  Dunkin had nothing on me.  Actually, I don’t think Dunkin even existed at this time.  My girls were pre-school and I did my part to add to the clogging going on now in their arteries by frying donuts every morning for one year.  I know this because I remember the house we were renting.

It was a little house on the back of the property and the landlord lived in the front house and used to come through my house when I was gone.  We had two bedrooms but I refused to use the back bedroom because the furnace was in the hall on the way to the bedroom and the fear of life that runs in my family, would not allow me to trust that it wouldn’t blow up one day and we would not be able to get out or to get to our daughters if they were in it.  I guess they slept in a crib and bassinet in our bedroom, as the youngest was still doing her projectile vomiting then.  Life has never suited her.

Oh, that’s good.  I only perpetuated to the clog in the oldest daughters artery, but I made some radically good French Crullers in the day and we ate them as we watched Sesame Street.  It was new.  It was good.  So were the crullers. 

I think my no-oil Vegan diet is making me light headed.  I just took a hunk of cheese, a DEFINITE NO on my diet, popped it in the microwave for 5 seconds and ate it.  The two things I miss the most are melted cheese and butter.  There is no substitute for butter.

I don’t know what happened to that electric skillet.  I mentioned it to my mother the other day, who makes it her business to know who has what in the family and where everything went.  Of course she cannot remember anything that happened last week, but that is for another day.  So, mother says that she has an electric skillet and she would be happy to get it out of her cabinet as she has no room in her senior galley kitchen.  I pull it out and it’s like a toy electric skillet.  I could only cook one crueler at a time in it.  Why do they even make something like that?

I will spare you all and not make a real ode, a rhyming ode, for the skillet.  It would be too painful to read.

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I was doing my daily “let’s avoid accomplishing anything” by searching for new blogs to read.  This is purely in the name of research and to get me out of the rut of writing blogs and then deleting them, prior to publishing, as they are not funny.  I seem to be doing a lot of that lately.

Then, there is the Christmas stocking issue and the knitted Christmas gift that I could work on 24/7 from now till Christmas and probably still not have it done.    I am on my second yarn and my twentymillionth rip out on this thing.  So, my days go, dishes, feed animals, knit four rows, search the internet for Vegan no oil food and any other excuse I can use.

When I am searching blogs, I am mostly looking for ones that make me laugh and today, I was in stitches over a new blog I found.  Truckstop Oysters. How Bad Could They Be? | Blurt via Truckstop Oysters. How Bad Could They Be? | Blurt.

All I can tell you, is I think it’s a guy girl (she asserted her he just asserted his alpha female status over Angelina Jolie’s dolls, another funny post, and he lives in North Carolina and he is funny!   And, he can tell you just exactly how bad of an idea it is to have truckstops serve oysters. 

If you have ever traveled, then you probably have a state that is NOT your favorite.  My state is Missouri.  I have broken down every single time I cross Missouri, except the last time.  Perhaps I am making my peace with the state.  But, I am pretty sure it just felt like it owed me as one trip, I broke down three times.  Never buy a used motorhome. 

It isn’t just that though.  Missouri is the state that has nice restaurants who bring you a cup of hot water and a packet of cocoa when you order hot chocolate.   What is more upscale than bringing you hot water and packets of cocoa?  I now travel a long way out of my way to avoid Missouri.

Let me know if you hear where Truckstop Oysters is playing.  Sounds like a great band to me.

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I have a new mother boad on my new Dell Inspiron 1545.  This seems to have fixed the external modem problem.  The new hard drive was a bonus (the repairman says it is much better than the old one.)  I have a new CD Rom, as I had to use a paperclip to eject it at times.  Now, my touchpad is wonky. 

While Dell’s service people are very nice, I am so putting off calling about the touchpad.  I wish they would have just replaced the whole laptop at some point.  I always have to go through convincing them that I am not a computer illiterate person and I have already updated the drivers for the touchpad and yes, my touchpad is haunted/possessed/you name it.

It’s very interesting to watch it jump all around the screen by itself, lighting up windows and closing them.  Interesting, but irritating.  Such as, it just jumped up a line and I found out I was typing on the wrong line. 

I am here to try to get some regular postings done.  The ground, hence the phone lines are dry and I can no longer hear my neighbor, on our occasional party line, informing her family that her son is out of jail now.  I wonder if this is the same son who knocked on my door the other day, so drunk he could hardly stand up, to ask if he can use my phone.  When we took the cell out to him, I was not letting him in the house to upchuck or slit our throats, he called someone and promptly starting walking, stumbling back home with my cell phone.

I may have lost the art of blogging.  I have to work real hard to be funny.  Although, my life has enough fodder for the telling that it should come naturally. 

In parting, since I shared a picture of my last “butt ugly shoes,” I thought I should share a photo of my new wonderful shoes.  I have bone and joint/tendon whatever problems and my feet will apparently self destruct if I do not tie them in  good, meaning $100, shoes.  This is according to my doctor.   And, in his defense, they hurt when I don’t. 

It was time for a new pair and he sent me to Shoe Carnival  http://www.shoecarnival.com/.  I am here to tell you, I am in love with these shoes and shoe carnival.  I had hurt my back and after walking less than an hour in these things, my back felt wonderful.  In fact the only time it didn’t hurt was when I walked in them.  They say you lose weight when you wear them.  Every time I sat down, my back hurt, so I think keeping you up and moving is a side benefit.

So, here they are:  My new Avi-motion walking shoes by Avia.  I was able to get a second pair, to trade off, for $125 for both pairs.  What a deal.  There is a more name brand of these shoes, that are supposed to tone your butt up and all but they hurt my feet.  The butt thing is not known yet, but we can hope.  I swear these shoes are fun to walk in.  They have a rocking kind of sole.  The dog is optional.

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There are just days when I wonder why I got up.  It certainly wasn’t to fight this VISTA computer.  And, in all fairness, not all the things that are wrong with this computer are VISTA’s fault.

But, those warm blankets were really calling to me and telling me not to get up and I should have listened. 

JCountry got in a bit of trouble at school today, thank goodness it was not major “expulsion” trouble, but sometimes you have to wonder just where his brain is?

We have three people ill in the house, EMT/Army boy, who went to update his EMT license, while hacking and spitting and coughing and looking like he has not slept in days.  I have a headache.

And, then, to have an excuse not to go and clean, decorate for the holidays, bake or sew the quilt I am working on, I went on-line to check my favorite bloggers and check family stuff on FaceBook and, Guess what?  I am not allowed on FaceBook. 

It tells me that my IP has been associated with “abusive behavior.”  I went to sleep, being a normal person and wake up being a harasser?  Okay, that is probably not even a word, but then, I am not someone who harasses people or abuses anyone.

I have been using this computer for several weeks now.  I have been the only one to go on FaceBook with it, for a very long time.   I do not understand.

I should have stayed in bed.

UPDATE: December 11, 2009: I am again able to post on Facebook.

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Okay, am I classy or what?  A post about sitting in the bathroom and starring at my hands.  Hey, it was the sixties.

Well, not really, it was just last night but I can see where you might wonder.  However, I was merely tired and the lighting in the bathroom is very strange. 

I have lost around twenty-five pounds now and a whole new body image is developing.  I now have ankles, instead of puffs where ankles should be.  I can feel love handles melting away, and I have a new set of hands.

My rings no longer fit, but tend to flop to the side.  First, I moved the left hand ring to the little larger right hand, now it is put away in the drawer.  My month old watch has gotten tightened by one hole and is still a bit lose.

This is all encouraging and I have a bit more weight, okay more than a bit to lose but last night I discovered I did not recognize my hands.  Not, the back of my hands, which I see daily for hours, typing away, but the inside of my hands.

For some reason, I turned my hands palm up and it was like:  Whose little finger is that?  It’s really small.  And what is that puff above where the ring was and why are these fingers so blue on the inside.

Okay, that one IS weird, but I think it was the lighting.  This morning,  they seem a normal color.

It’s amazing what will entertain me when I am really tired.

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‘Tis the season for holiday shopping, and just what do you give those who have “it” all and also money?  Check out, Wacky Gifts for the Holidays for some great ideas, including a personal hovercraft.  I WANT ONE!

But, what if you have to give to one of those irritating people who pick up the wrapped Christmas gift and tell you what it is before they open it?

Yes, folks, these are Decoy Gift Boxes for products no one probably makes, but I bet you will see for sale, next year.

OR, you could do what my mother did every year for most of our lives!!!!

She gave gifts in Kotex boxes.  Yup!  Those highly decorated boxes held everything from toys to underwear.  If it did not come in a box, and she could cram it in a Kotex box, that’s what you unwrapped. 

We started taking bets as to who would get the Kotex box this year.  On good years, she could fool you and you would see that your brother got it and think you were safe, but noooooo!  Unwrap your next gift and there is the Kotex box.

The very best year was the year that JCountry got it.  He was all of two or three years old and I really would not have thought that he knew what a Kotex box was, but I have a movie of him unwrapping his gift, taking one look at the box and staring up open mouthed in wonder at just what was his Great-Grandmother was giving him.

Hmmm! Good idea, as soon as those old movies are transfered to CD’s, I shall post it on U-Tube and he shall become a U-Tube sensation and be properly embarrassed, AGAIN!

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This picture is “Waiting for Grandad.”  Left to right we have, EMT, JCountry and Gaffer.  Pardon my over-crowded house.

Four men in the house and anytime that we can get all four in one room, a game happens.  The latest “greatest” game is 1942, Axis and Allies.  The challenge is getting them all in one room.

The first thing that happened was EMT disappeared.  Literally, disappeared.  He left, on Friday night, to go help with Bingo at the fire department and never returned.  He told me he might just sleep at the department, but would be home in the morning. 

EMT has a bad habit of not letting us know what he is doing.  He is twenty, so it is hard to complain; however, I have repeatedly explained to him that it is a matter of courtesy to let the people you live with know when to expect you back.  Heck, it is even a matter of your own safety, as we have a relative who died when his car flipped over and he wasn’t found for three days.  The first two days he lived. 

So, the first day EMT was missing, I grumbled about him all day.  I left the outside light on until 3am and then swore and went to sleep.  The second day, I began to worry a bit.  Late that day we called his friends.  Why is it no one is ever home when you call them for something really important?  Late that day we drove around.  No one was at the fire department.  No one was at his friend’s house. 

At seventy-two hours, we went to the police and filed a report on him, missing, in our car.   He has had a problem with a couple of guys and we were concerned they had cornered him and beaten him to a pulp and left him in the woods.  We drove around staring between trees for our red van.   Our County is wooded.

Two hours later, when we arrived home from the police station and driving around, for the second time, Gaffer decided to make a library run for books, movies and high speed.  Twenty minutes later, Gaffer calls and lets us know that he is parked next to our Red Van at the library, and will call if his brother is in the library.

YUP!  That’s where we found EMT, after seventy-two hours.  During the time he was missing, he had gone camping, torn apart a car with a friend, and made money scrapping the parts, done Christmas shopping, and gone to the library.  He really does not understand why we were so upset.  In the meantime, my hair is grey!!!

EMT, anticipating leaving for the Army in January, where he will be the problem of the U.S. Government and they can figure out where he is, brought home the Harry Potter Clue game.  He gave it to the family for Christmas and wanted to get a lot of gaming in before he left.  He also figured it was maybe a game I would play.  He was right.

Playing games is akin to having a kidney infection, for me.  I am more a knit and giggle with daughter, while games are going on, preferably with a glass of Bailey’s in hand, kind of gal.  There are now three games I will willingly play: Cribbage, Dominoes and Harry Potter Clue. 

I should be cleaning my piles of projects out of the front room and baking pies or cookies for our Thanksgiving dinner, instead I am blogging and listening to Gaffer speak with a Russian accent as he rolls his dice to defend Russia from Germany.  The are figuratively spitting at each other, I am told.  JCountry is Germany.  Gaffer is Russia.  Granddad is back in from his disappearance to my studio and all is well with our world.

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