Just One of Those Days

The Woman I Am

The woman I am
Hides deep in me
Beneath the woman
I seem to be.

She hides away
From the stranger's eye--
She is not known
To the passers-by.

She goes her way,
The woman I seem,
But the woman I am
Withdraws to dream!

The woman I seem
Goes carelessly--
When love goes by
Does not seem to see.

The woman I am
Knows sudden fear...
And hides more deeply
When love draws near!

For love might look closely
Perhaps...and see
Her beneath the woman
I seem to be!
---Glen Allen---

Give It Your Best Shot!

Finish the following:

Why did the chicken cross the road? _______________________

A priest, a rabbi and a minister walk into a bar _________________


Or how about answering these?

What is your most blonde moment?

What is your most triumphant moment?

What is your most embarrassing moment?

What is your happiest? saddest? most disgusting? hot damn! moment?

Twitchin' Fingers

I have been blogging, lurking and commenting for a couple months now. It's a lot of fun and feel like I have made some new friends. But it is such a l-o-n-g, tedious process for me. I don't have high-speed internet or DSL. I have freaking slow dial-up! 26.4 kbps or lower. Those who have such wonderful photos... takes for-evah to load. I don't want to miss anything so I wait. I try to have 3 windows up at a time so I can be reading others while waiting. Various bloggers have been talking about knitting and crocheting. The weather is cooler, the work on the houses has slowed down and now my fingers are twitching. Itching to get back to the yarns.

I learned to knit when I was a teenager. I taught myself to crochet when Only Daughter was a baby. I like the look and feel of knitted projects but crocheting is soooo much easier and quicker. I have crocheted hundreds of afghans, baby blankets, potholders, kitchen towel/toppers, and a lot of other items too numerous to mention. I love to crochet! I love to create different patterns. What I love the most... is when I give them as gifts to people I care about. Actually, I get asked to make blankets and other items for people I don't even know! My friends and family ask me to make stuff for them to give as gifts. Of course, I say 'Yes'. Gives me an excuse to do what I enjoy most.

For awhile there were babies on the way by the dozens so my fingers were flying for 10 to 12 hours a day! The baby boom has slowed down. Another favorite is the kitchen towels with crocheted tops to hook to cabinets or stoves or fridges are fast and easy to do. I have a stock pile of 75 towels (which makes 150) but they are all packed up and at the new house. Hmmm... I do have a tub of some yarn in one closet. Maybe I could make something to appease my itchy fingers?

Last Christmas, I made scarves and hats out of that new type yarn... Fun Fur, Boa Yarn and a couple others I can't think of what they are called but I bought to try out. Some work better knitted and some work better crocheted. I didn't know if Only Daughter would like something like that, but I made her a set and her friend a set and they loved them. Other Daughter asked for a set so I made her and her baby a set. I really liked the ones I did for Other Daughter. Red and fluffy. I bought yarn to make myself a scarf but I was too busy making stuff for other people. Maybe this year.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think I will go see what yarn is in that tub and figure out what I can do with it.... Anybody need a baby blanket????

The Getaway

The Polish Prince has been working hard at his job, around the house (both houses), so he wants to take a couple days off to do something, go somewhere. Away from the house so he won't be tempted to work. Hah! I am able to resist the temptation to work better than him!

So where do you want to go? I ask.
Don't know. Just get in the van and drive.
Like where?
I don't know. You're suppose to come up with an idea.
Really? Why is it up to me.
Because you're the planner.
But I am sick and can't think.
So are you saying you don't want to go now? We can stay home. I can find something to do. It doesn't matter that I haven't had any time off and I need to get away.
No, we'll go. I can sneeze, blow my nose, and feel all around miserable in the van just as easy as I do here in my recliner... my comfortable recliner, in front of the television.

So we head out Friday with no destination in mind... just NORTH. Michigan has some beautiful scenery heading up north and along Lake Michigan. We've been 'north' many times so he took some back roads and we zig zagged through the countryside. It was a really pretty drive. I was enjoying myself in between sneezes. We went through one area where asparagus plants were tall and going to seed. There were a lot. I mean a LOT of asparagus fields. I am talking thousands and thousands of acres of asparagus. I got out the handy dandy map for that county and sure enough in the info section it said we were going through the 'asparagus capital of the world'. Seriously, it was amazing. We agreed we should come back in the spring just to see how all of the asparagus is harvested. (side note: The Polish Prince was born and raised a farmer... it is in his blood!) Of course, did I get any pictures of these fields of green? No! Mental Slap!

We made our way to the lakeshore and headed north into Manistee. My Sister lived up there at one time. Come to think of it, so did my Brother and his family. But wow! The town has sure changed. I got all turned around. I recognized a bar I had stopped in many years ago, but that was about it. We were heading to the outskirts of town and I started to point out the lifelike statues of some deer. WHOA! Thems real! A doe and 3 spotted fawns were grazing by the side of the road. Close enough that I could have counted the spots. I got a couple pictures of them.

If the Polish Prince would have been sick, he would have been in his chair whining about how miserable he was. It would have been, "Can you get me a drink? Can you get me some kleenex? Some soup would be nice." And so on and so forth. When I am sick.... I get no sympathy. I get, "You can handle it, you're tough! Where's my dinner?" He knows it pisses me off... this double standard, so I guess he was making it up to me because I agreed to go travelling with him... cause he pulled into Little River Casino and asked me if I wanted to walk around a bit and throw some coins away! Hey! this is a big concession on his part! He hates taking me to the casino. He says it is just a waste of time and money. I LOVE going. He says I am addicted and I'll send them to the brink of bankruptcy. Yeah. Right. Huh-huh. I am definitely not a true blood, dyed in the wool gambler. Playing the quarter slots is big money for me. Playing more than one quarter at a time is really pushing my luck. Seldom do I hit Max Credits. I personally like the nickel machine and if the gray hairs are hogging them... I love the penny and two cent machines! Besides, I spent my money at Little River. No, of course, I did not win anything. I never expect to. I just had fun!

We left there after a an hour or two and continued heading north along the lakeshore. We were trying to get to Petoskey before 10:00pm. There is another casino, Victories, up there but it is for the buffet that we go... the Mukwa Cafe. Oh, the food is sumptious! We got there just in the nick of time and feasted on the best fried fish, mashed potatoes, roast beef and veggies. And the desserts....mmmmmmmm good! Of course, afterwards, we wandered around and dropped some coin in. Actually, I put a $20 bill in a 2 cent machine and played that for two hours. When it was gone, I was ready to go.

We stopped for the night at Boyne Falls. The motel was nice enough but being sick and in a strange place.... equals NO SLEEP! NO REST! We were up and out early. Travelling south now. Baby Son was camping around the Baldwin area with some friends so we set out to find him. Omigosh! I should have gotten better info. He said Pickeral Lake near Baldwin. There are many Pickeral Lakes in that area! But not the one Baby Son was at! Tried calling on the cell phone. Northern Michigan is not an area condusive to cellular traffic. Finally reached a spot where the phones were coming in just barely but enough to ask where he was and to stay put until we got there. They were in the town of Baldwin at the ice cream shop. So we met them there and found out exactly where the campground was and made plans to stop when we were done with lunch.

We ate in a quaint, little restaurant. Good food and homey atmosphere. We sat there longer than intended because it started raining.... a deluge... torrential downpour! I felt sorry for Baby Son and the camper buddies. We made a run for the van and headed down the road about 10 miles to the campground. It stopped raining after 3 miles. By 7 miles, there was no indication that it had even rained. Got to the campsite and they were dry!! I was glad for them except it was a rustic campsite and they could have used the 'shower', if you get my meaning!

The fishing wasn't so good. They were glad they brought back up food. They were deep frying a turkey. I found out later that it turned out really good. As a matter of fact, their camping trip was so good they stayed another night. Haven't heard yet whether or not they made it back safe and sound. I'm the MOM... I worry!

We made it back early Saturday evening. I was glad we went but happy to be home. The pupkids were VERY happy to see us back! They missed us. So did the 10 outside cats but not for the same reason... they were just hungry!

Today I am feeling much better. Still blowing my nose some, but no need for nasal spray, cold medicine, antihistamine, aspirin or anything else. I am on the road to recovery. So much so... I did 6 loads of laundry... and posted this long winded entry!

The Nose Knows

Last Sunday I taught I had sinus congestion. Monday I taught it was allergies. Tuesday I realized I hab a code. My nose is pugged up. I can't breed. My troat is on fire. My head is full of codden. My eyes are watery. My nose is itchy as hell. I sneeze fifee times a day and half the time I ain't quick enuf to grab a tissue so schnot goes all ober. And to top it off, when I sneeze, I swear my troat is being ripped out. Arggggggghhhhhhhh.

We were going to go on a mini-vacation today. Just take off for anywhere but here. Eat out someplace. Stay overnight. Just enjoy being together and away from it all. Too sick to enjoy it so we are holding off until tomorrow. Gawd, I hope I feel better tomorrow! Today, the Mineral King brought his Little People over for a visit. He lets me in on a secret. My cold was a gift from his Little People when they were here last Thursday. Thank you, my little darlings!

Seriously, I have managed to avoid a cold for quite awhile so I knew it was time. Trying to maintain two homes has worn me down so I was a perfect target for the germ beasts. It amazes me that there has been milestones made in the medical world but they can't come up with a cure for the common cold. Although, I don't think there is anything common about this cold. Probably 'cause it is mine.

So I will go spray my nose, down some antihistamine, lather on some Vick's Vaporub and try to sleep. And hope tomorrow is a 'clear' day!

What's The Buzz All About?

Winnie the Pooh is one of my favorite characters. Pooh loves hunny and hunny is made by bees. I love the song he sings when he is trying to sneek honey by pretending to be a rain cloud: I'm just a little black rain cloud. Hovering over your honey tree. Pay no attention to little ol' me. 'Cause everyone knows that a rain cloud doesn't like honey, no not at all...

I have no problem with bees. (Hate. Hate. I say... HATE... wasps and hornets.) Pooh's bees are honeybees. There are a lot of other bees, too, although I don't know all the different varieties. (I don't like yellow jackets either.) For the most part, bees are usually busy (heh heh busy as a bee) going from flower to flower, gathering nectar and taking it back to their hive. At the hive there is a Queen Bee. I like that. Not a King Bee, but a Queen Bee. The workers are male and they live to serve the Queen Bee. I like that. Oh, I already said that.

I have lots of flowers in my yard so I have lots of bees buzzing around. Along with lots of butterflies and hummingbirds. The butterflies are doing a job. The hummingbirds are doing a job. Just like the bees doing their job, collecting nectar. So I let them go about their business. I don't bother them and they don't bother me. Except the other day, a bee stung me on my pinkie finger. Ow! It hurt. Owww and stung. Owowowow... but then it stopped stinging so all was well with the world again.

Only Daughter has a phobia about bees. It is a well-founded phobia since she is allergic to bee stings. She doesn't like the sight of a bee or the sound of a bee. She doesn't even like photos of bees or cartoon pictures of bees. I assume she really hates the Nasonex bee, too. Of course, knowing this, I like to tease her (with love... lots of love) and send her pictures of bees. I sent her a recent photo of bees and was quite surprised when she suggested I post it to my blog. Of course, there is a story to go with it.

My Polish Prince (formerly known as My Man... which sounded so possesive and non-descript I just had to change it) asked me to come out to the back yard to look at something. I always dread it when he asks me that because usually it involves something I would rather not see. Our house is surrounded by Black Locust trees. Old ones that are probably over 80+ feet tall. He points to the big one behind the pool room. As I walk towards it, I hear a sound. It grows louder and louder. I could feel it. It roared like a locomotive. Looking up, I gasped! I had never in my life seen so many bees swarming around! Hundreds of thousands (no exaggeration!) of bees swarming that one tree and more coming in from all around. I have seen a few movies about bees. The swarm of bees coming in and the sound of them sounded so hokey and fake... or so I thought. That is exactly what they looked like and sounded like!

I felt no fear. Of course, I looked down at my body to make sure all my skin was still intact. I walked around under the tree in awe. Got my camera and took a couple pictures. Yeah, right. Try taking pictures of bees in a flurry. Only one turned out half way decent. And one wouldn't know they were bees just by looking at it... but that's what they are. An hour later, they were gone except for a few stragglers. There they go into the wild blue yonder.....

Feeling Blue

When I am feeling blue. And neglected by family and friends. Like now. A little ditty my Mother used to say pops into my head. I only know part of it....

Nobody loves me. Everybody hates me. Sittin' in the garden eating worms.
Big fat juicy ones. Little skinny scrawny ones.
See how they wiggle and they squirm!

I'm having another Pity Party and that's what is on the menu du jour.

Does anyone know the rest of this ditty? Okay, has anyone ever heard this before?

I Do Believe In Spooks*

Movies, books and television dealing with ghosts, paranormal, supernatural, and psychic phenomenom intrigue me. Some make me laugh, some make me wonder, some scare me and some make me wish I believed in ghosts.

The Ghost & Mrs. Muir
The Ghost & Mr. Chicken
Ghostbusters
Ghost Dad
Ghost (especially the pottery wheel scene)
Sixth Sense
Dragonfly
Always
What Lies Beneath
The Frightners
House (the movie not the television series)
Drop Dead Fred
Twilight Zone
Friday the 13th the Series
Nightstalker
X-Files
Twin Peaks
The Dead Zone
Ghost Whisperer
Medium
Supernatural
Psi Factor
Lost
Kay Hooper's book series on the special unit of the FBI consisting solely of people with some type of psychic abilities.

I want to believe but my little voice inside me won't let me. Part of it has to do with Bible scripture. In I Samuel 28, King Saul cleansed the land of Israel from all occult practices, but when he consulted God on the threat of a Philistine invasion, he got no answer and turned to the Witch of Endor. A spirit or vision of Samuel appeared before Saul but not because the witch conjured it up (she was more surprised than Saul!). It was God's doing and he admonished Saul for his actions.

So it stuck in my head that there are no such things as the Spirit of the Dead or Ghosts. But I want to believe in ghosts and visions of spirits. I want to be able to communicate with those who have passed on. That's it in a nutshell... why I can't believe. There have been loved ones in my life who have passed on and if it were possible to see them or for them to communicate with us, I know in my heart of hearts that they would have done so by now.

Now on the other hand, I believe in evil spirits possessing a person. Oh, not to the extent of The Exorcist with spewing green shit and the head doing a complete 360, but mental conditions like schizophrenia and such that cannot be controlled by medicines could fall into that category. Definitely the serial killers like Jeffrey Dahmers, Ted Bundy, The Boston Strangler, the Son of Sam (David Berkowitz), Dennis Rader - BTK, John Wayne Gacy, Gary Leon Ridgway (the Green River Murders), and of course Charles Manson (although the list goes on and on). They have no conscience, no soul and I believe are possessed by evil spirits. No childhood trauma or genetic faux pas could explain what they and others like them have done.

So why can't I believe in the good spirits? Of those who have gone before us? I hang onto something I learned when quite young... when you die, you're dead. Your body turns to dust and ashes. Your spirit or breath of life leaves you. You don't go to heaven or hell. Nothing happens until Christ's Second Coming. I don't visit my Mother's grave because she is not there. Like I said, I have hung onto that belief for many years, but I am not so sure about it anymore. First of all, the spirit or breath of life leaves a person... so where does it go? Too many accounts of near death experiences indicate there is something after death. I have not had any actual ghost sightings but I have felt things which could only have come from my Mother. My Baby Son has had visions. He was about 8 years old when he dreamt that my aunt (whom he had met only once) died in a car accident. Several days later, my aunt was killed in a car accident and the details were the same as what Baby Son dreamt. When he was about 12 or 13, he had a dream about another aunt dying (one he knew well and loved). He was really upset about it because he knew it would happen and soon... and it did. Yet, my Mother has not contacted him (at least as far as I know) and if possible, she would have. He was very close to my Mother and all the stupid, crazy stunts he has pulled over the years... I would have expected her to show herself, slap him up side the head (or kick him in the ass) and knock some sense into him!

I spoke with a cousin last week and he said him and his family had moved into his parents' house after his father had passed away. He is a scoffer at the supernatural hocus pocus, as he calls it. He would be the first one to laugh at anyone who said they had seen a ghost BUT not anymore. He saw his mother's ghost in what was her bedroom. He said it scared the beejeebies out of him, but he had no doubt in his mind that it was her. I want to believe him.

Guilt creates a barrier for me. I think that God would be upset (pissed) with me for believing in ghosts, paranormal, psychic abilities and the like. So I hold myself back. If I feel that I have experienced something of a supernatural phenomenom, I shun it and explain it away. I guess I need more proof or evidence of personal experiences from people I know. So if anyone has had a ghostly encounter, please share with me... make me a believer!

*This is a line from a classic movie... what movie and who said it? This is WAY TOO EASY!

Something You Don't See Every Day

An unusual sight on one of our afternoon drives. Let's make it fun! Add a caption. Or a short storyline. Or cartoon comment. Something.... please? It took two days to get this photo uploaded to this post. I should have just let it go, but it became a matter of principle. So it is here... for what it is worth!

Four by Four

My niece sent this to me in an email, so I thought it would be fun to share. Feel free to answer in the comments.
Four things about me - Things may or may not known about me in no particular order.

A) Four full time jobs I have had in my life:
1. Mother
2. Factory worker
3. Waitress
4. Claims processor

B) Four movies I would watch over and over:
1. Young Frankenstein
2. Fifth Element
3. Enemy of the State
4. Fiddler on the Roof

C) Four places I have lived:
1. Kentwood, MI
2. Brown City, MI
3. Austin, TX (outskirts)
4. Goodells, MI

D) Four TV shows I watch:
1. House
2. NCIS
3. Related
4. Desperate Housewives

E) Places I have been on vacation:
1. Las Vegas
2. Tennessee
3. North Carolina
4. U. P. MI

F) Websites I visit daily:
1. Bloggers
2. Yahoo Homepage
3. More bloggers
4. Umm...more bloggers

G) Four of my favorite foods
1. Steak
2. Cabbage & kielbasa
3. Chinese
4. Seafood

H) Four places I would rather be right now:
1. (My) New house
2. Ireland
3. Casino
4. Whirlpool/Jacuzzi

Full of Beans

Doctors have concluded that, if you find the man in 3 seconds, then the right half of your brain is better developed than most people.
If you find the man between 3 seconds and one minute, then your right half of the brain is developed normally.
If you find the man between one minute and 3 minutes, then the right half of your brain is functioning slowly and you need to eat more protein.
If you have not found the man after 3 minutes, the right half of your brain is a mess, and the only advice is to look for more of these types of exercises to make that part of the brain stronger.
The man is really there. Keep looking!
Only Daughter sent this to me (not Other Daughter).
I thought it was cool and wanted to share with ya'll.


*********
Yesterday's post... today's outcome
The house showing was a good/bad thing. The couple said the house wasn't for them, but he is a Realtor and will definitely keep our house in mind for potential buyers. Wah Wah Okay I'm done crying about it. There is an Open House on Sunday.... so keep the good thoughts, prayers, etc coming fast and furious!

Think Good Thoughts

Okay. I am fine. Breathe deep. Think positive. Nope, it ain't working. The nasty little negative thoughts keep invading my thoughts. Meditate. Ahhh-hummm. Ahhh-hummm. Crap! Still doesn't work. Look on the bright side. Shure!

Our house has been on the market for over a year now. No buyers. Oh, well, there was this one buyer way back in December but their buyers backed out so they had to back out from buying this house. A little over a month ago, we went ahead and bought another house because we were optimistic and full of faith. Now I think we were just stupid! No, not really. That is just fear talking. I know we can manage two mortgages for a short period of time. At least I thought so. Now with the price of gas on the rise even more, the hot summer causing huge electric bills and My Man having work done on the new house... I am beginning to worry. Which is ridiculous because I am not the worrying type. Not usually. Only this isn't a usually situation. It just was not suppose to take this long to sell our house!

We are scheduled for an Open House on the 13th. I wasn't going to bother getting the house 'ready' until Friday or Saturday. My Man is going out to the new house tomorrow early because the Floor Guy will be there. He was going to mow the lawn, weedwhack, etc. I am having the Little People here until mid-afternoon. The Realtor Lady calls. Someone wants to see the house between 6:00 and &:00 tomorrow night. Great. Wonderful. Okay. I can handle this. I can't say "No", that would be just plain stupid. So we'll bust our chops getting things done. It isn't like there is a lot to do, but we want it to present well. Which is actually funny because when we went to look at houses, it never bothered us whether the house was clean or not. We always look past that stuff and see the potential. The condition of this house and the one we just bought was less than perfect. Boy, is that an understatement as far as the house we're living in now goes. We have done a lot of remodeling and fixing up to get it to look as nice as it does. It still needs work but it is time for someone else to do it.

We are tired. We would like to move on (literally) to the next chapter of our life. I hope, I pray, I wish upon a star, cross my fingers, anything and everything in hopes this house will sell and sell soon. Just like in Peter Pan when TinkerBell is on the verge on dying.... Peter has everyone think good thoughts ..... won't you think good thoughts for us?

My Mama Done Told Me

Things my mother taught me:

1. Speak softly but carry a big stick. Teddy Roosevelt may have coined the phrase but he didn't live in our house... my Mother did! She didn't actually carry a big stick, but she didn't need to. When she lowered her voice, we knew enough to stop and listen and heed her warning.

2. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Be nice to your enemies, nothing confuses them or pisses them off more.

3. Never air your dirty laundry in public. When my parents divorced after 42 years of marriage, family and friends were shocked. They thought they had a happy marriage. The immediate family knew better. We knew about the abuse... physical and mental.

4. Never argue with a drunk. A drunk doesn't listen and he won't remember it when he sobers up. Besides that, it's fun to listen to him argue with himself!

5. If someone shares a confidence with you... KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. One thing I could always be sure of... if I told my Mother something and asked her not to tell anyone, she never did. She went to her grave with many, many secrets.

6. Always tell the truth. Telling the truth is easier than trying to keep your stories straight.

7. Read. Read. Read. Books were my Mother's friends. Since my Dad kept her from having friends or going anywhere, she lived vicariously through the books she read. She always told me I could travel the world over, explore, learn about history and be whoever I wanted by immersing myself in books.

8. Be true to myself. Don't let anyone else control my life. Don't do anything that goes against my beliefs or ethics.

9. Treat your family with respect. Please, thank you and just all around common courtesy should be given to family and not just reserved for friends.

10. One thing she taught me after she died.... Tell the people who are close to you that you love them. Don't assume they know... hug them, kiss them, show them and tell them!

How Does Your Garden Grow?

These are my grape (cherry) tomatoes. I did not plant them this year. Twenty plants popped up in my garden so I have been weeding around them and tending to them.

Usually I plant Marigolds around my tomato plants to help keep the tomato worms away. Since I didn't plant the tomatoes, I didn't plant Marigolds either. The heat, humidity and thunderstorms make the plants grow like crazy. Unfortunately, the tomato worms are growing and increasing in number, too.

Where do tomato worms come from? I go over my plants carefully every morning, removing the damn little creatures and smooshing the living crap out of them. By evening, there are more... bigger and did I mention, more?
This is a smooshed tomato worm, so I know they are not coming back to life and sneaking back into the tomato vines. I have no qualms about slamming my foot down on 'em, squirking their green, oozy lifeforce out on to the ground. Of course, years ago when I planted my first garden, it was a different story. Remember I was a suburbia girl transplanted to the country. Country as in where the cows graze until milking time, manure is spread thick and heavy over the fields (inevitably on the days I hung the laundry on the line), where when a car passed the house... you ran to look to see who it was and wave. So I did what all the other country gals were doing. I planted a garden.

My Man plows up a patch of ground, adds some black dirt (which in reality is cowshit which has aged), plows it again and then tells me to rake it out evenly and... get the rocks out. So I raked... and raked ... and raked. When he got home from work, I was sitting in a chair exhausted, sweaty and sore from raking. We walked out to the garden together. He stood there, scratched his head and said, "What the hell is that?" pointing to the 2 foot mound of rocks and stones lining the length of the garden. "What do you mean, what is it? You told me to rake out the rocks and stones, so I did." He began to laugh and laugh and I got mad and madder. He said, "I just meant to surface rake it to get the big ones from the top." "Well, why didn't you say that?" So the next day I planted in my garden...everything. And anything. No matter if I liked it or not. If it was a vegetable, I planted it. I found out that year that I hate... no, loathe... parsnips. Yeck!

I lovingly tended my garden. I hoed. I weeded. I watered. But my tomato plants looked funny. The leaves were disappearing. I told My Man this. He walked out to the garden with me and then asked, "Did you check for tomato worms?" "Uh...umm. What do they look like?" He bent over a tomato plant and pointed at one of the ugliest, most humungus, greenest creatures I had ever seen. I sheepishly said, "Obviously not." At least he had the decency to hide his smirk and muffle his snickering. Then he told me the most disgusting thing. He wanted me to pick them off the plants, drop them to the ground and step on them. Ugh! I wasn't about to touch them things. He got me a pair of gloves and a pair of needle nose pliers to pick them off. He picked one off, dropped it to the ground and stomped on it, squirking icky, oozy green crud all over... including my feet and legs! I said, "No I don't think so!" He suggested I put them in a paper sack and then put them in the burn barrel. Okay. I could do that. Well, I used a lunch sack and after it got almost full of about 50 of those green monsters, I was getting more and more pissed. How dare those little suckers invade my garden! Sucking out the life juice from my tomato plants! I ripped them little buggers of the vines, threw 'em down on the ground and smashed them. "Take that you little sonabitches!" It wasn't until years later that I learned if you plant Marigolds around the tomato plants, it keeps the tomato worm population down.

That first garden was truly a learning experience. I learned I don't like cleaning, cooking and pickling beets (cause what else is there to do with them). Planting 8 zucchini plants is not a good idea. Over the years I have learned that 1 or 2 zucchini plants is enough... to feed the family, your neighbor's family and all your relatives. More than 2 plants... you should be shot! The amount of zucchini I got that first year was enough to feed a starving nation for a year! And you have to pick them every hour or they grow to the size of large watermelon! Although my boys had a lot of fun with them. When the season was over, they went out and played war with the 'left-over' veggies, using them as bombs and torpedoes. Which came in handy the next year when I couldn't plant a garden. Plants popped up all over... tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini and squash.

Gardening is a love/hate relationship. I love planting the seedlings and seeds, watching them grow but hate the weeding and bug demolitian. I love picking (no, picking falls under hate) and cooking and eating fresh vegetables. By the way, I have many recipes for cooking with zucchini. I hate picking, cleaning, and blanching them to freeze them. But I love pulling out a package of veggies in the middle of the winter that came from my garden. Store bought just don't taste as good!

We already have a garden area at the new house. Should be able to get some fertilizer real cheap from our neighbor's. Next year I'll be back to planting a full garden: green beans, full size tomatoes, grape tomatoes, zucchini, yellow squash, cabbage, green peppers and whatever else my little heart fancies.

Twenty (Stupid) Questions

Questions I have been asked and the answers I should have given:

1. Can I ask you a question? Yep! You just did - that's all for now.
2. You're pregnant! What is it? A baby elephant, what else?
3. (When answering the phone, I hear...) Is that you? No, it isn't. Who did you want?
4. (Phone rings across the room) Who is that? What? Am I psychic?
5. I ask the question, "Do you want more coffee?" He says, "Is there any left?" No, I just wanted to know if you wanted some, that's all.
6. [My all-time favorite] Is this a movie he made before he died? No, after... he was still under contract.
7. Does this outfit make me look fat? No, I can honestly say the outfit doesn't make you look fat.

Pick -Up Lines I have been asked in a bar and the answers I should have given:

8. Is this seat taken? Yes, Mel Gibson went to the restroom...he'll be back any minute.
9. Where have you been all my life? Well, the first half I was in elementary school...
10. Have we met somewhere before? Yes, weren't you with your wife at this one party...
11. What's your sign? I've always been fond the STOP sign, but right now NO TRESPASSING comes to mind.

Rhetorical questions that require no answer:

12. Who's your Daddy?
13. Where's the beef?
14. Who-who let the dogs out?
15. Can you hear me now?
16. What's love got to do with it? (TT)
17. Do you want fries with that? (okay. This one requires an answer)
18. What's up, Doc?
19. Why so blue, Panda Bear?

The number one question on everyone's lip nowadays:

20. Do you blog?

This Little Piggy

I collect pigs. No, not real pigs. Mostly ceramic ones. Every size, shape and color. My family and friends know I collect pigs. They give me gifts along with the sentiment, "I saw this pig and I thought of you." Well. Thenk you.

My Dad use to say, "I stood up for you today. Someone said you weren't fit to eat with the pigs and I said you were." Well. Thenk you.

Now on the other hand, my Mother had a saying which I use on occasion, but to this day, I have absolutely no idea what it means. When asked where my Dad was, she would reply, "He went fishing and the pigs ate him." Well. Okay.

Baby Son had a friend who had all kinds of animals on their farm. A little pig named Daisy who was trained to pull the bell on the door when she wanted to go out. Many goats, chicken, dogs, cats, horses, cows, geese and an African Bush Hog named Ringo. When Ringo was a tiny piglet (or is it hoglet?), he tried getting into a bucket of water which he did... but couldn't get out of. He was going down for the count when out of nowhere, a big Mama Goose pulled him out. From that day on, she adopted Ringo and took care of him. Ringo grew up... and out. Full-grown, he stood about 3 feet high, 4 feet long, about 400 pounds with 1 1/2 ft tusks. He was a formidable sight, but he was a big baby. He roamed the yard, rooting for whatever he could find to eat. I was told that Ringo loved to be petted. He would sit up like a dog and nudge until he got his ears scratched. So that's what I proceeded to do. Mama Goose came barreling up to me with two other geese, side-by-side, necks and heads together as one, honking and squawking like their tails were on fire. I started to turn around but not fast enough... Mama Goose bit me in the ass! She was protecting her baby, Ringo. Baby Son, who was laughing his ass off, shooed them away with a rake he was carrying (for just that reason! I saw him carrying a rake, but never gave it a second thought). It was only then that he explained about how Mama Goose had saved Ringo yadda yadda yadda.

I travelled to Missouri with My Sister and her husband (now her ex) when I was 12. There were cows, goats, and hogs. I was warned to be careful as I crossed the barnyard so I didn't slip and fall. City (suburbia) girl that I was, asked "Why?". My eyes followed the pointing finger to the skeletal remains of a cow that had fallen down among the hogs. "They eat anything," I was told. Yeesh! I believed it! These hogs were huge! I was mad at My Sister for some reason so every time I passed this one red hog (My Sister is a red-head), I would say, "Hiya, Sis!" The boy who was with me thought it was funny, but I don't think she would have thought so.

Speaking of pigs and My Sister (what a segue), for my 39+1 birthday, she bought me a concrete pig. It's about the size of my Puggly, Annie but it weighs a ton! It took 4 guys to carry it in. My nieces bought two little piggies to go with it. I repainted them a couple years ago, but it looks like they'll need it again after we move. My Man decided to move them... by himself... and dropped Mama Pig and broke her ear. He glued it back on, but it looks bad.

When we move, I'll be pulling out all my pigs and displaying them. They have been packed away for over 6 years... poor piggies!

That's it for the Piggy Tales except to say that my grandkids don't like my versions of "This Little Piggy".

This little piggy went to Bloomingdales, but this little piggy could only go to WalMart. This little piggy had Prime Rib, but this little piggy only got a Big Mac. And this little piggy whined and complained..."Nobody loves me. Nobody plays with me. Everybody hates me...."