On This Day

Left Knee: Whoa! What the heck is she doing?
Right Knee: Calm down, it’s April and the sun is shining (for a change).
Left Knee: Are you crazy? She just can’t get on a bike, start pedaling and expect me (us) to fall in line.
Right Knee: 1.Speak for yourself 2. Get a grip 3. We’re not going that far 4. Stop whining, I have to do more work when you whine.
Left Knee: Bite me. All I’m saying is she could give some warning. She can’t go from walking to riding and expect no reaction.
Right Knee: You’re a baby.
Left Knee: You’re a suck-up.

The other big happening on this day was the early morning earthquake. Seriously? Earthquake?

Whoa.

Actually, it wasn’t much, but certainly noticeable. No, it didn't wake me, I was somewhere between that awake / asleep mode where you think you're dreaming and then realize, nope, not a dream.

A Tale

I stumbled upon this site and this week was inspired to play.

Four, Five, Six…
The pug next door said it was useless to count the humans. He said there were too many and since you didn’t know which ones were good and which not, why bother? I asked him what he counted. He said he counted the dark times.

The dark times, what? He explained further that as there were times the room was bright and times when it wasn’t. He counted the times it wasn’t. He said a poodle clued him in, the dark times signaled an end and the start of a beginning. The poodle noted how when the bright came after the dark another bowl of food was delivered.

Nine, Ten, Eleven. . .
I was confused as to how counting the dark times was any less useless than counting the humans. I liked counting the humans. There were more of them than dark times and it was more fun. Some of the humans were nice. The short ones like to pat my head. Some of those had sticky fingers. Now and again I got to taste peanut butter they left behind.

Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen…
I heard the pug sigh loudly when he got to sixteen. I asked if all was well. He said no one made it past twenty dark times. I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, though I did notice the chocolate lab and that weird terrier were gone and a different poodle and a stout bulldog were in their places. I’d lost track of my dark times, since I was counting humans but if pug was on sixteen my count had to be more. I was here before him.

Nineteen….
Oh goody, more humans and they have some short ones with them. I just love the short humans. I think I’ll wag my tail. They seem to like when I do that. The short humans giggle when I waggle my tail.

“Mommy, please Mommy, please, please, please…may we have this one!!”

Six

In one of those twisty full of fate, six degrees, first in chicken or egg kind of turn of events I met a new blogger buddy face to face before I ever read her blog. The sterling personality behind Blog Antagonist, as it happens, is a very good friend of my friend Nina, who I met in blog land some time ago. Nina invited me to a dinner when she was in Chicago last summer, that is when and where I met BA. Dinner was a blast, full of fun and lively conversation.

My new blogger buddy, BA has tagged me to share six unimportant factoids about myself and I’m happy to play along with one exception, I won’t tag anybody else, but if you are so inclined, go for it.
Six things:
1. Pierced. As in, my ears are pierced. The first piercings took place the summer before 6th grade. My mom paid a neighbor-lady a few bucks and a six pack of beer to torture numb my ears with ice cubes and stab me with a large sewing needle. The first ear went rather quickly, considering. The second, not so much. Hours later she finally got my ear numb enough to stick the needle all the way through without me squirming too much. I’m sure that’s why that hole is on an angle. Putting earrings in that ear used to be a trial. I’m an old hand at it now though.
The second set was one of those mall jobbies with the gun, in and out in seconds. It is the second set though, that gives me the most trouble, re: irritation when I keep earrings in for any length of time.

2. Purses. I have two, one tan the other black. Functional, multi-pocketed, inexpensive quasi-necessary evils. As you may have guessed, I don’t like purses. I do however like bags, so long as they don’t give the illusion of purses.

3. Dresses and skirts. I don’t own any, ergo, I don’t wear any. I did once upon a time as my mom & ex-husband would buy them for me. They both favored big bold floral printed shitty vibrant designs. All of which I made me want to puke. To stem the proliferation of the botanic garden in my closet I made a few select purchases which I didn’t like much but at least wouldn’t make me lose my lunch. Eventually, my mom caught on and stopped. The ex continued until he was, well, ex. One by one each garment found homes in other closets. My slacks had a party to celebrate.

4. Make-up, you know where this is going by now, don’t you? No, of course I don’t wear make-up. When I remember, I apply lip balm and when I know I’m going to be kissing Neta, lip gloss, because she likes it, but otherwise, no. Ages ago my step-mother tried to teach me about make-up. She gave me up as a lost cause, wagging her finger at me, telling me that one day I’d want to care more about foundation, eyeliner and the like. I don’t think we’ve had a conversation since.

5.I like the color blue, every shade of blue. I don’t care for pastels much but I can handle pale blue. I have a lot of blue in my wardrobe. A lot. There is also a lot of black. For the past few years my daughter has been nagging asking me to try expanding my wardrobe to include a wider range. My first stabs were disastrous in her view, but progress, I believe is being made.

6. I can’t commit my cell phone number to memory. I’ve had it for nearly 4 months and I just cannot remember the number. True, I don’t dial it and I don’t give it out often, but still….

MeMe Finale

25) Do you like your mom or dad? My dad has been absent from my life most of the 40 years he and mom have been separated / divorced. I didn’t like him when he left and I suppose now it is more a matter of not knowing him rather than like or dislike.

My mom struggled to hold us together after the divorce. The struggle marked with chronic illness, poverty, street gangs, drug and alcohol abuse has impacted the present tremendously. Her life and mine have been and continue to be inextricably woven and though she can be caustic and short-tempered, some parts of some days, yes, I like her.

26) How long does it take you in the shower? 5-7 minutes weekday mornings, usually longer on weekend & yard / building chore days.

27) What movie do you want to see right now? Heck if I know. I like movies but don’t like the movie going experience much these days and I don’t much like going alone, so I don’t really follow what’s coming or is out. Neta and I are supposed to go when I’m in TN. I’ll want to see whatever seems promising then.

28) Do you put lotion on your dog or cats? Does anyone? If so, why?

29) What did you do for New Year? NY 2007/2008 I was in TN with m’lady. We had shrimp cocktail and conversation with her parents. We went back to her place and she grilled some kick-ass steaks, baked some taters & stuffed them with baked potato stuffing stuff. We ate, drank and made merry. Yum. I hope to make it a tradition, at least until we cast our lots together and then we’ll make even more merry and maybe more traditions.

30) Do you think The Grudge was scary? I’ve heard of it because D likes horror type flicks, but I haven’t seen it (I don’t think she has either). Not really my kind of entertainment.

31) Do you own a camera phone? Yes, I haven’t decided if I like it or not. I’m leaning towards not.

32) What is the last letter of your middle name? E. In fact, there are 2 Es in my middle name. There is an E in my first name and yet another E in my last name. The Es party hardy, they own the joint.

33) Who did you vote for on American Idol? I have never voted for anyone on American Idol. I don’t even watch the episodes unless Neta and I happen to be on the phone and she’s watching and talking about the contestants.

Thus ends this exericse. I've been tagged to list six things about myself. I guess that's my weekend homework assignment, since it doesn't look like I'll get outside much as we are expected to be hit with winter-like conditions. Oh. The. Joy.

More MeMe Parts 2 and 3

Part 2
9) As previously stated, nine is missing. This just in and confirmed, 9 struck it rich with the lottery ala “The Connors” but unlike the TV family, nine moved out of Cuba(IL), flew to Greece, bought a villa and interest in an olive company.

10) Would you date someone with different religious beliefs? Perhaps, provided the beliefs weren’t radically different. Then again, someone with a radically different belief system probably wouldn’t be interested in dating me.

11) Are you continuing your education? Of course, though not currently in a formal setting, but I’m always learning something.

12) Do you know how to shoot a gun? I pulled a trigger once. I doubt that would count as knowledge.

13) If the house was on fire, what’s the first thing you’d grab? Presuming of course daughter & pets are already out or on the way out, my phone I guess, to call the fire department.

14) How often do you read? I’ll take a leap here and presume the question means books, because really, I read every minute of every day my eyes are open. If we’re talking books then I average one a week, generally. It’s been a little slower since I’ve been actively courting my lady friend, lately it is more like one every two weeks.

15) Do you think more about the past, present or future? The operative word here is more I don’t know, if I had to guess I’d say I give each tense equal time.

16) What is your favorite children’s book? I can’t say that I read any book as a young child that resonated with me. I wasn’t allowed to go to the public library until I was 9 or 10 so I was limited to whatever school I was in had to offer. Once given access to the public library I began to explore the world of books. I remember reading a lot of biographies, auto-biographies and teenage angst novels. I couldn’t name any single one as a favorite. A couple of titles leak over the memory banks, “The Autobiography of Miss Jane Pittman” and “Go Ask Alice”. I enjoyed every novel required for high school and those I selected on my own. Favorite? There are soooo many that had an impact on the development of me, who can name just one?

Part 3
17) How tall are you? I am taller than 5’ 6” but not as tall as 5’ 7”

18) Where is your ideal home located? I haven’t seen enough of the country / world to feel confident to state categorically. Home will be wherever my love and I reside. When we are together, it will be ideal.

19) Last person you talked to? Neta

20) When was the last time you were at Olive Garden? May, 2007. I took my mother for her birthday. She enjoyed it…but we probably won’t go back, or rather I won’t. Nothing against OG, my mom is just not in her element in restaurants.

21) What are the keys on your key chain for? 8 total: 4 for doors /locks to dwelling, 2 bike locks, 1 mail box and 1 storage cubicle.

22) What did you do last night? As it is technically Thursday morning, Wednesday night I got in from work, changed into sweats & rode my bike to my mom’s to help her with some paperwork & hang out a bit. Came home, ate dinner, did the dishes, talked to Neta and answered these questions and (will) talk with Neta again before turning in for the night/morning. Oh yeah, I watched Top Chef.

23) Where is your current pain at the moment? My left knee, the right and then the left, again.

24) Do you like mustard? Not really. However, EB sent me some last year (?) and it was pretty good. As a rule though, I don’t seek out mustard. Now & again, I might dabble it on something.

Whew, that’s it for parts 2 and 3. This sucker is long so there are yet more questions to answer, but for now, I have to go say Goodnight / Good Morning to my sweety.

All Too Soon

The …maybe the girlfriend from the previous post was not meant to mean my girlfriend, but M’s girlfriend. There was a chance she’d meet us for dinner and then no, but as it happens we were able to meet ever so briefly. She’s very cute (and practical). There will be a lunch, probably after the run of the show.

My girlfriend doesn’t have any definite plans to come up, the conversation has been raised and there is a slight chance it can happen in a couple of weeks. I will, however, be going down next month, finally.

Now, on to the real post…. a stroll down MeMe lane. I’ve seen this over at Maria's , Lobal's, Sassy's, and Kitty Litter's you may have too. It’s a painless Q and A. Oddly, there are 33 numbers but only 32 questions. Number 9 is gone. The rumor is that 9 entered into the witness protection program and was dispatched to Cuba (IL). It's only a rumor, for all I know, 9 is hanging out in Atlantic City, losing her skirt at the casinos.

Anyhoo I decided to perform this MeMe and I'm doing it in 4 parts, just because. Part 1.

1) The phone rings. Who are you hoping it is? The land line is been programmed to emit distinct, distinctive chimes for each of the 4 V.I.Ps in my life. Any of those 4 chimes would be welcome.
2) When shopping at the grocery store, do you return your cart? Well, more times than not, I’m on foot so the cart doesn’t leave the store. However, when I am in a car, of course the cart is returned to the corral or the store, whichever is nearer.
3) In a social setting, are you more of a talker or listener? Friends or acquaintances, listener. Family, talker. Usually. Dynamics and / or alcohol consumption might alter any usual routine.
4) If abandoned in the wilderness, would you survive? Hellllz to the N-O.
5) Do you like to ride horses? I don’t think so. I was on a horse once many, many years ago. It didn’t suck too much, but I guess it says something that I haven’t sought the opportunity to do it again.
6) Did you ever go to camp as a kid? Well, just "day camp” which was more a very large play-group. Our family didn’t camp and I was never a scout or anything like that.
7) What was your favorite board game(s) as a kid? Monopoly, Life, Sorry and Checkers
8) If a sexy person was pursuing you but you knew he/she was taken, what you do? Tell them to sod off, I'm taken.

Monday arrived much too soon and now Tuesday is here as well, so I'll take my leave and pick this up later.

Goodnight, Good Morning.

Friday, Finally

Customer service is a major component of my job, has been for years. As the company is primarily mail order, most of my contact with customers, vendors and others is via the phone. I have very few face-to-face encounters but e-mail is making some inroads. Still, the phone rules and I am on the phone much during the course of a typical week.

Years ago a customer complained to my boss of the time that I didn’t have enough “sunshine” in my voice. She acknowledged that though I wasn’t rude, mean or nasty I didn’t exude “sunny” either. He didn’t offer any suggestions as to how I could get “sunnier.”

The comment did stay with me over the years. And while I wouldn’t describe my quality as “sunny” I do approach each telephone encounter with customers, vendors and others with an air of geniality laced with knowledgeable command and professionalism.

Sometimes it is a trial and this week has been one of those weeks. My emotional tilt-o-whirl aside, the job must be done. There were moments though, that threatened to crack my steely professional resolve.

An insurance company was supposed to issue a credit for 4 months of billing errors instead they back billed us above and beyond the original error.

A business checks printer who sent the wrong checks & deposit tickets not once, but twice and then, then had temerity to charge the company for RUSH delivery. We still don’t have the correct checks.

A payables clerk from Florida called to quibble about $1.25. We billed $100.75 but the purchase order was approved for only $99.50. She went on and on about budgets and hard times and really, that day she had me at hello. Seriously. This instance was small change but it does hi-light a broader issue, the guys simply must follow the terms of the purchase orders. Most school districts will not pay beyond the orders terms. The budgets are just too tight. But, that’s another story for some other time.

It is Friday. Friday means that the mail is lighter and the phones are quieter. And as this Friday is nearly over as far as work is concerned I can look ahead to being home with my feet up, resting my aching back, nursing a tall tepid one (I don’t go “cold” usually), with candles flickering and soft music playing. The ills of this week will eek out of my fingers and toes and I will begin to feel, well, probably…sunny, despite the cold dreariness of this particular Friday.

Saturday promises sun and warmth in abundance and Sunday I get to hang out with both son and daughter and this just in...maybe the girlfriend and of course, Babeball. Any and all doing their part to get me ready for another busy business week.

Distinctive Tone

Two days ago, on the phone.
Me: Hey Son
Him: The box office is closed today. I’ll look into a ticket for Sunday, tomorrow.
Me: Alright, let me know, when you know.
Him: I will. I need some help with something.
Me: Sure, what’s up?
Him: She’s buying me stuff.
Me: Yeah? Hmm, stuff. Cool.
Him: No, it’s not.
Me: No? Well, what kind of stuff?
Him: Well, she bought a shower curtain, some pillows and a belt.
Me: Did you need a new shower curtain, pillows and a belt?
Him: Yes, but that’s not the point.
Me: No, of course not. Son, she cares about you and this is her way of showing that and that she’s thinking about you. It’s not like she saw you needed a belt and she bought you a suit. She’s being thoughtful. But, if you are having a problem with it, you should talk with her. If she likes you the way you say, the way you think, she’ll understand. However, son, you do realize that you are no longer and *I* you are now a *WE* and with that comes…stuff.
Him: You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?
Me: Yep Yep

Yesterday on the phone:
Me: Hello, son.
Him: I sent an e-mail to the box office, I should hear back in a day or so.
Me: Alright. I hope D can get a seat.
Him: Well, we talked.
Me: Yeah, how did it go?
Him: Well, I helped her put up some shelves. She had fixed dinner and we ate. It was good, the food. I told her and it was really chill. She understood about that and me being busy and distracted because of the show. She said she understood. It was really chill.
Me: Good. I’m glad to hear it. Are you still going to take her to the Arboretum?
Him: Yeah, when the show is done. It’s a surprise. She knows we’re going somewhere, she just doesn’t know where. She’s excited. She hates not knowing, kinda like you.
Me: I’m happy your talk went well. Soooo, when are we all going to have lunch?
Him: Geeez, you and her geez. Soon, ma. Soon.
Me: Probably not until the show is over, huh?
Him: Yeah, probably.

In the Morning

This tale is my entry to this month's Wordsmiths exercise. The groans emanating from the bedroom, slicing into the serenity of Justine’s early morning ritual signaled the return of Rachel’s nightmares. Experience and the memory of a painfully bloody nose kept Justine from making her way to the bedroom. It was too soon. She must wait.

Justine does move to pour another cup of coffee. The steamy aroma taking her back to a similar morning eight months ago. She dropped a cup of coffee then, running full out to Rachel’s side the very first time she’d heard those groans.

Having cleaned up and settled down after being pummeled about the head and face when trying to rouse Rachel, Justine wanted to know if Rachel wanted to tell. Rachel didn’t want, but she did tell some.

“I was seven and my brothers were six and five. Mama’s friend, Papa Jack announced he was taking us to the carnival. Mama was working, so she didn’t go. We left in Papa Jack’s green truck and arrived at the carnival about 30 minutes later. It was cold. Too cold to be at the carnival, I thought. Other people must’ve thought so too, because there weren’t many people there. We jumped from the truck and half walked, half jogged about, unable to decide what to get on first. We were so excited. Papa Jack eventually suggested the Ferris wheel. Mama hadn’t let us try that ride before so we ran to go do that. Papa Jack paid the fee and the man operating the ride strapped us into baskets. I got to sit alone, since I was the biggest and oldest. It was the most exciting thing I’d ever done. I loved being up at top, being able to see the whole world. The boys weren’t even scared when it stopped and left us hanging in the air. Soon it was our turn to get off. The boys got off first and stayed together until I got down. I looked around for Papa Jack and didn’t see him anywhere. I called for him but he didn’t answer. The boys called and still nothing. The ride operator asked me if anything was wrong and I told him we couldn’t find our Papa Jack. He closed the ride and took us to an office. We sat for a long, long time with many grown-ups asking us our names and other questions. The boys started to cry. The carnival people gave us hot chocolate and peanuts. Sometime later the police came. We left with the police. “

It took a long time but Justine was finally able to get this part of the story from Rachel. The nightmares started two years after she left foster care. There is more, but Rachel won’t say. Though Justine has tried to find out what triggers the nightmares, more importantly she has had to learn how to soothe.

The coffee is nearly finished, soon it will be time to go to Rachel and hold her close

Seven Wonders

While cleaning the building earlier today a few wonders tripped through my mind. For instance, I wondered if...

• I’ll eventually be able to look over the 3rd floor banister without feeling dizzy
  
• Neta’s headache will ease and whether we’ll be able to talk more today
  
• The sun will make an appearance and /or the winds will die down a bit
  
• I’ll try to get in a bike ride anyway
  
• My mom found endearing a former boyfriend’s oft repeated proclamation, “I’m in love with you honey like stink on shit.”
  
• That was an original BobbieJoe-ism or no.
  
• Listening to music while completing the chores would be better or worse, efficiency wise.
  

Just to name a few.

Speaking of Crabs

It may surprise you to learn that I had my first crab leg February 14, 2008. My daughter, cuckoo like Co-Co Puffs over crab legs decided to prepare some for the Valentine’s dinner she prepared for her boyfriend. I was invited too since I was, you know, home.

I like crab meat. I’ve always only eaten it though after it was out of the crab. Crab cakes, crab salad, Flounder with crab meat stuffing. You know, like that. I never had any inclination to tackle crab legs. None.

Tackle some I did on February 14, 2008. It came as no surprise that the meat was succulent and quite tasty. In fact the entire meal was delicious. Also not surprising was my dislike of the effort it took to get at that succulent meat. Pain. In. The. …yeah, there.

It probably would get easier as time went on if I kept at it. The boyfriend and D seemed to be having fun (they’d both had crab legs before). People in restaurants always seem to enjoy the effort. Me? Nah. I like tools but the crab crackers don't excite.


Though the meat was yummy, I've probably had my last crab leg, King or otherwise. Probably. Someone might be able to entice me to give it another whirl, someday.

Just A Slice

A/P Lady: I sent you a check for $212.74 ! ! YOU are STILL billing me for $212.74

Credit Mgr. (me): Yes, ma’am. We got your check for $212.74 and we applied the $212.74 to your bill. That is not in dispute. However….

A/P Lady: I DON’T KNOW WHY you KEEP billing ME. WE PAID the invoice!!

Me: Yes ma’am, I’m not disputing that, however …

A/P Lady: I HAVE A CANCELLED CHECK!

Me: Ma’am, I am not disputing payment of the $212.74. Your total bill came to $1,704.51. The $212.74 combined with your subsequent payment of $1,279.03 brings your total payment to $1,491.77, leaving $212.74. ~~There were 2 invoices for 1 order, from the beginning someone in the A/P office misconstrued the larger of the two invoices. The $212.74 represents payment of the smaller invoice. ~~

A/P Lady: I don’t see how that is, I sent a check for $212.74.

Me: Yes ma’am you did. We got that check, however….

This went on for about 15 minutes with me explaining every which way how it is that she or rather her employer: a school district is MI still owes the company $212.74. This tussle has been going on for several months. The collection agency dropped it as too small for litigation. I’ll keep it on the books until the end of the year and if A/P lady still hasn’t gotten it it will go down as a bad debt for the company.

Let’s talk about King Crab Legs some more. Yum, except…

Define Sexy

One of the topics this month over at The Lesbian Lifestyle is Define Sexy. I think sexy is...

... strong, sculpted calf muscles that jump with amusement when warm hands wrap them in a gentle embrace. It is also higher up, the biceps that throb under the ministrations of soft succulent lips. Sexy is that sound she makes deep in her throat when she realizes you are awake. Moreover it is that sparkle in her eyes when she looks the question in your direction. Sexy is your reply that starts as a whisper and ends with a sigh.

Sexy is reading her suggestive text message with mother sitting across the table.

Sexy is the laughter shared in the early morning hours, the lovingly prepared meals, cheerfully crafted cards, tenderly worded letters and thoughtfully selected tokens of affection. It is the understanding her need to rest and knowing her need to talk. Sexy is caressing her when she needs to cry. Sexy is her knowing the same about you, doing the same for you.

Sexy is 365 or 366 as the case may be. Sexy is love. Sexy is together. Sexy is all I am with you and all you are with me. Sexy is life.

Like Any Other Day

I don't get together with my brothers. The older is in Texas and has no interest in being in Illinois and certainly no interest in being part of this family, or any, perhaps. That may be changing as he appears to be in recovery and softening on some points. But, we don't talk so I don't know that to really be the case. The younger is still in jail. He's been offered a plea bargain deal but he won't take it. His wife is scrambling to get him legal representation. I do try to foster a relationship with his kids, but it is tough as their mother is, in a word...harried for a number of reasons not the least of which is the scrambling with my brother. They do however, have an open invitation to come by, anytime. They couldn't today because they live several miles away and are very active in their church. In years past that was the life my brothers and I led and in turn the lives my two led. Easter Sunday meant dressing up in your finest duds, going to church often participating in a special program and eating a huge dinner.

This Easter Sunday was different in several regards. Mom came by after her church service to share a meal with me and daughter. Son couldn't be here for he had two performances today and the break between them was not sufficient to allow the trip our home for dinner. He'll come by later in the week for the "basket" I packed for him.

As our lives continue to change so too will our "holidays" and our gatherings.

Purdue beat Utah. Fudge, there goes another bracket. Ah well, hopefully all the rest of the seeds will hold court. Either way, YaY for March and the Madness of it all.

It's Spring ! ! ! !

Forecast from National Weather Service As of 12:03 PM CDT on March 20, 2008
Rest of Today... Partly sunny. Temperatures nearly steady around 40. Northeast winds around 10 mph. Tonight... Mostly cloudy. Snow after midnight. Snow may be heavy at times after midnight. Snow accumulation of 1 to 2 inches. Lows in the upper 20s. East winds 10 to 20 mph. Chance of precipitation 90 percent. Friday... Snow. Snow may be heavy at times. Snow accumulation of 3 to 5 inches. Blustery. Highs in the mid 30s. East winds 15 to 25 mph. Chance of precipitation near 100 percent.

I don't care. It's spring and I got it. The fever. And it's burning a whole in my... oh never mind. Happy Spring!

In My Head

Good Morning. Two simple words, a customary greeting even, if not especially, among strangers. Why…

I was ten or so when my mom began to relinquish her authority over my wardrobe. I was given more freedom to make my own choices and those choices…

On my way to see my son on stage on Saturday I encountered some St. Paddy celebrants all decked out in celebratory garb. Some conversation among the celebrants wound its way to astrological signs and related attributes. One celebrant asked the other “are you like, psycho sensitive?" My mind wonders what…

I checked and double checked my tax forms before my e-filing. Still, I got the rejected e-mail. Turns out I flubbed my SS No. What? I’ve been writing, typing and reciting this number for over 30 years. I know it! What!?! My head is just…

...clogged, like my ears, well actually just one ear. The right ear is disconnecting periodically and it is driving me…

The fog outside is nothing compared to the fog in my head. In my day-to-day I’m slogging through the important, funny or relevant details or scenes. I can articulate them and then I can’t. Consistent coherency is a struggle right now. My thoughts and energies are not here with me, they are there with her. I want ME to be there, right now!

But I can’t be, not right now. So I need to finish a thought, compose a tune that allows me to dance, to function well enough, long enough until there is where I can be.

More Than A Feeling

It started at the base of the spine. A sizzling sensation radiating up and outward, leaving warmth where there was once a chill. It wasn’t long before that full body warmth delivered signals to my brain and my brain in turn sent signals…elsewhere.

Emotional hand wringing ensued.

I’d known this might happen. The head was already at the resort the body was now begging to visit. But, not now, all evidence to the contrary, mind and body, not ready. Not yet.

She was talking. What was she saying? I couldn’t concentrate. The buzzing in my head, the throbbing…elsewhere; must have been the wine. No, it wasn’t. I couldn’t take my eyes from hers, the blue vibrant, then smoky. I wanted to ignore the eyes, the buzz the throb, but I couldn’t. They would not be ignored.

Some what ifs broke through the cacophony momentarily interrupting my reverie. During the break, I heard her ask, “Do you even know if you’re really gay? I mean, you’ve never even kissed a woman.” To which I replied, “No time like the present.” And just like that, I was ready.

After several weeks of correspondence and conversation I visited Neta for the first time a year ago this week. My first night there we talked through the night. We kissed some too. We retired in the wee hours of the morning, falling into sleep, holding each other gingerly. Then daylight came and we...decided to be a couple.

Birthday Suit

He came into my life seven months ago. I wasn’t so sure I wanted what having him in our space meant. Pete the cat, was a new adventure in a time chock full of new adventures. I wasn’t quite so sure I could handle it, but I was willing to give it a go.

There were some humps along the way but we have formed a bond.

We have an understanding and he knows that I am on his side on at least one primal issue.

Suits.
I don’t think my daughter would actually try to outfit Pete the cat in anything quite so silly, but one can never to too careful. Diamond girl has acquired some interesting wardrobe in her few months in residence. Not a taco suit, but she has a cape with a matching cap, a belted sweater, polo shirt and a fur and more. Wardrobe. Diamond girl balks at some but gives in to others.

I guess she’s picking her battles. Pete the cat will have none of that. Daughter presses on, insists that a cat in, at the very least, a hat is de rigueure. Pete and I are in total agreement. No hats! Or any other suits of clothing while we're on topic.

Pete the cat is two years old today. The celebration, sans hats, is on!

Madness

Illinois...block out, oops too late. Maybe next year.

Comcast... WTF*???



*Fudge. The broadcast on the Tennessee / LSU battle hiccuped during the fist half. Aaaarrrggghhhh. I sure hope you have it togther now, it's shaping up to be quite the battle.

Zip It

The zipper on my warmest parka broke.

Nothing dramatic. Dog. Poop. Squat.

Fudge.

I took it to one of the my friendly, neighborhood dry cleaner / tailor.

Mr. Liu wrote the ticket, telling me to come back in a week, on Thursday.

I paid (dearly) for my parka the next week. I wore it to work the following day.

A(nother) very cold day.

Warmest parka zipped with relative ease. After walking a bit I felt a draft. I looked down. The zipper was apart.

Double Fudge.

After work I go home, change into my other parka and return to cleaner / tailor.

Mr. Liu listens to me, inspects the parka and zipper.

Words (a flurry) are exchanged between Mr. and Mrs. Liu.

I have to hope they aren’t saying things like I’m too fat for my coat. I don't understand the exchange. The looks, though, I've seen those before. Buuuut.. I feel myself wanting to defend:


I’m doing all this walking. I feel the burn.

Mr. Liu says to me, “I fix, come back Thursday." Another seven days with the other parka.

Triple fudge.


I pick up the warmest parka the next week.The parka with another new zipper.

The warmest parka has been worn for a week. The newest zipper has held.


Mr. & Mrs. Liu's exchange was likely about the defective zipper, lack of confidence in their zipper supplier and / or about my warmest parka zipper replacement being one in a series of do-overs.

Or something like that. It had to be. Mr. & Mrs. Liu friendly they are but they don't care one whit about how fat I may or not be, just about the zipper on my warmest parka. Thanks to Mr. Liu my warmest parka is back in top form.

A Moment of Sun

The sun shone today. For a minute, but it was out there blazing away like there was no tomorrow, if ever so briefly. Taking advantage, I took not only the usual mid-day walk, but another to boot. The need to soak up as much sun, all bright and shiny, is powerful these days. I hope this sun shining folly extends beyond the brief stint it shared today.

Though walking is my most routine exercise regime, especially during these cold weather months, I find the walking much productive when I have a specific destination. Walking around a couple (or several) blocks and then back again just doesn’t hold much interest for me. Obviously the lack of interest doesn’t extend when walking with the dog. When I have the dog with me there is the dog and the dog’s business on which to focus.

I’ve tried listening to music while I walk. Sometimes effective, however, more often than not the music creates a dstraction that I just can’t handle. I have flashes of klutz and those seem most active when my ears are dressed with listening devices. I’ve tumbled up and over my fair share of curbs. I’ve tried to mask the tumbles as dance maneuvers but the moves fall flat just as my body hits the pavement.

The destination for the mid-day jaunt was none other than the land of Ohhhs. Ohhhprah has a store. Not just an on-line marketplace, but an actual brick, mortar, glass and steel structure where wares are sold. The store is staffed by perky folks clad in black, business casual attire.

…and pink silk bunting draped over anything that would stand still. If you know your “Steel Magnolia” quotes you know what comes next. Trade the silk bunting with “O” all over and you have what it felt like to be in Ohhhprah land. Pass the Pepto.

Not quite the thrill ride of say…Elvis’ Graceland, the land of Ohhhs offers its own unique brand of worshipping, right down to the huge plasmas offering favorite Ohhh scenes, interviews and special events. The empire that is Ohhhprah has grown again. What’s next you might ask, a reality show?

As a matter of fact…yes.

I’ll make it back to the Ohhprah store, though not to purchse. It’s just a place to go during my mid-day walk.

Skittle Brain (ed)

This ad is pretty old but I'd not seen it until very recently. Immediately I questioned how he got dressed? How did he get to work? Then I realized I'd missed some of his dialog.

Oh. But still questions remain.

Baby daughter?

Silly to question, I know. It's not meant to make sense. It's silly, like much. It's senseless, like too much.

Mama Grand

My maternal grandma, Big Mama we called her, died 19 years ago. We had many conversations, Big Mama and me. Mostly they were of the "go fetch" variety, as in, "go fetch me a swalla o water, gal" but once in a while more was covered.

Only once did I bring just a swallow. My grandma drank heaping mugs of water. When she said "swalla" she meant to fill her favorite mug to the brim with ice cold water.

I still have that mug.

As is usually the case when someone dies there are things you wished you'd told them, had a chance to tell them. It occurs to me that I'd never told Big Mama that I loved her. Of course she never said those words to me either. She wasn't that type, but I knew she did and I presume she knew I loved her as well.

In the years since her death I found myself trying to recall our last vocal exchange and I just can't bring it forth. It was likely something inconsequential. Or perhaps having to do with plants as by that time I was into house plants and she was quite the guru when it came to keeping greenery indoors.

During my recent illiness my imagination ran a bit wild. I found myself fantasizing thinking about all kinds of things. Big Mama flitted across my mind and I found myself fabricating an exchange with her. It went something like this:

Me: Big Mama, why Gunsmoke?

Big Mama: Miss Kitty. Now go fetch me a swalla o water, gal.

Maybe? Naah, not me. However,

Dear dirty, red Chevy Impala with the temporary plates,

It is permissible to make a right turn at some intersections, within certain hours on a red light, provided

1. There aren't any signs dis-allowing or limiting the action.

2.You come to a full and complete stop prior to attempting the action.

3. You look left, right and then left again to determine that all motorized and pedestrian traffic (who have the green light, by-the-way) has cleared the intersection.

4. When and only when you see (not imagine, guess or feel) that the way is clear to proceed, then by all means, proceed.

If you hear me clapping and / or screeching (as my "Go Bulls" horn was retired many seasons ago)to get your attention because you almost hit me, then perhaps you tripped on one or more of the steps.

Me, my fellow pedestrians and other motorists would appreciate it greatly if you would 1. slow down or better yet, stop 2. pay attention 3. heed signage & other signals 4. grap a capful of consideration and / or 5. all of the above when you hit the road again.

Signed,

Concerned Road Rage Rules Survivor

Top Ten

Top Ten Reasons for looking forward to yet another Winter Storm Warning

1. The expected inches will cover (& or re-cover) piles of dog poop inconsiderate neighbors didn’t have the decency to scoop.

2. Ah, on second thought, that's the only reason for looking forward to yet another winter storm.

There is a new storm brewing and if the forecasters are right by this time tomorrow I will be ankle deep (or more) in yet more snow. I know, it's winter still and as such storm warnings shouldn't come as news. Further, I know many of you have been in the grips of horrid winter weather and have your own lists of woes. I can certainly empathize.

Demeanor that's what I'm thinking about this day.

I spent most of the weekend recovering from flu-like symptoms. I'm feeling much better now, but Friday afternoon, Saturday and good doses of Sunday were not the best of times. I'd promised my mom I'd help with a project on Sunday so come sore throat and body aches, I was committed.

In her own meandering way of nit-picking things apart, mom asked if I was going through The Change. I assured her that I was indeed and had been going through it for some time now. She asked (again) about the symptoms I was suffering and I admitted that besides erractic cycles and insomnia the symptoms were few and minor considering the possibilities. Mom follows that she's noted a change in me and before I could ask what that might be, she notes, "you talk louder and you get frustrated faster."

In my head I say, "no shit, Dick Tracy!" Outloud I return with how I didn't think these were effects of The Change but rather the growing need to be heard and desire for a different kind of life most days. Not those precise words, mind you, but yes, in essence. Mom changed the subject not at all convinced of my argument.

Then again, I admitted a bit quieter, could just be the windy, snowy and freezing weather.

Poli - Tick

Judging by her excitement one would think that this was my daughter's first opportunity to vote in a presidential election. It isn't. She got her first taste in 2004, Bush vs. Kery. D understood the import of the occasion as it wasn't her very first election. That came in 2003 when she got to vote for some local officials. However, as I recall she was pretty ho-hum about the whole thing.

There isn't much as exciting as the presidential race, politically speaking that is, especially in our little town where the hottest issues of late were to light (or not) the football stadium or to open up a shopping district street to car traffic, taking away yet another pedestrian paradise of benches and greenery.

This time daughter is feeling it. D is aflutter with excitement. She cast her vote on Super Tuesday with joy and pride. She is bursting to do so again in November. D is making no bones about who she is supporting. So much so she couldn't wait to show Diamond dog her new toy.* Hillary, sporting her "I'm with Stupid" tee shirt, packing her "It Takes a Village to do my hair" manual and BILL collar (attached to a short leash), is no match for sharp little doggie teeth. I predict Hill's stuffing will be all over the dining room rug in no time flat.

D tosses Hills into the air with extreme glee exhorting Diamond girl to "get her!"

*for the record Diamond dog has Bush & Governator Ahnold too. They weren't as well received initially, but with the addition of Hills, they are being re-evaluated in a way that only she can.

Two Words

To the owners, tenants, residents (whatever) of units 2B and 3C I have two words for you: Boot Tray. Or, perhaps you could put your funky, gunky boots on the inside of your unit. Or better yet, you could put a boot tray by your door, inside the unit (the mother is inside the park)* and then rest your funky, gunky boots there.

Some people.

*Jaw 3D , a sad, so sad obsession.

Sticky, Sweet

My Dearest Neta,

I sit here in awe and wonder when I recall those first e-mails. There was no way to know that those few, innocuous keystrokes would bring us to this day, this time and to this love. This love has tripped my heart, ties my tongue and consumes my soul. This love warms me when I’m cold (these days that’s a mean feat) and is of constant comfort to me. I awake each day with you on my mind and retire each night with thoughts of you nestled around my heart.

Our situation isn’t ideal and if there is a downside to this love, being away from you physically so many days running registers as such. But I am not deterred for I know we are together in every other way and I am confident that we will concoct a formula that will merge our lives in that way as well.

When I’m weak I draw strength from you
And when you’re lost I know how to change your mood
And when I’m down you breathe life over me
Even though we’re miles apart we are each other’s destiny

The subject of countless poems, the hook of many a tune, this thing called love is an omnipotent force driving grown women wild. Thank goodness and thank you for taking that step, building that profile, being on-line that night, spying my profile and fashioning that first message. I treasure that day and every day since. I treasure you and thank my lucky stars that I dropped in your universe.

For the 10,000th time towards the next million or two, I love you truly, madly and oh, so deeply.

All my love,
Deborah
partial lyrics to "Destiny" by Zero 7 Thanks eb.

Scratch

Observations, realizations, and such on my journey to svelte:
a. svelte? Hah! Remember, make reasonable goals.
b. It’s a lifestyle, not a diet
c. Potato chips taste better than any fruit or vegetable.
d. Still, I love fruits and veggies.Love them! Sometimes, though chips and the like are just easier. The call me, really, they do. D-e-b-o-r-a-h I tell ya, call me.

Gah!

e. I love to eat. Yum. I love food. Mountains of food.
f. Generally I’m a planner, but I've noticed difficulty in planning meals & the necessary shopping. Again, with the shopping.

Gah!

g. Portion control is a HUGE issue for me. Mounds of food. Smaller plates help, if I break the plate immediately after the first helping.

h.Resolve has the shelf life of lukewarm dairy products.
i. Tracking food: daily calories, water in-take, servings of fruits/veggies is a major PITA.
j. but these things and more MUST be done if I want to REACH my goals.

K. As you may have noticed this list addresses the “diet” side of the equation. The exercise portion is a constant up and down battle for me as well. I can say without hesitation that the only exercise I enjoy is bike riding. That, I can do without any pre-text, rationalization or justification. That, I will have to get over as obviously, I cannot ride my bike for 12 months, not in the conventional sense, anyway. When I don’t have bike riding, I struggle to maintain any kind of exercise regularity. I repeat,


Gah!

The journey begun 2 years ago has stalled a few times. I get on a pretty good roll and then get distracted, side-tracked, tired, bored, or whatever…I lose ground and re-gain the weight I’d lost and then some. So, here I am, exactly where I was this time last year except, now I have a couple years worth of advice, education and tools at my disposal.

The journey begins anew. My annual physical is four months away. I expect to be housing a considerably different, read smaller, closer to svelte body when that date arrives. So it shall be written. So it shall be done.

Don't pass the chips. Kill all the chips!

Gah!

Heavy Artillery

Boots. Thick rubber soles.
Socks. 2 pair
Leggings & Leg Warmers
Jeans
1 Cotton and 1 Knit turtleneck
Windbreaker Jacket
Parka
2 Wool-like acrylic scarves or mufflers
Wool-like acrylic hat (nylon cap underneath)
Gloves


More important than any single article or the multiple layers is a-t-t-i-t-u-d-e. This, I know and try as I might I can't help but feel a little testy. I am cold. I am tired. I am tired of being cold. But I’m sure it will all be over soon. I have to believe this.

On another front, I gloated mentioned to someone about being passed over for the Aunty F’s January visit. Well, lucky ducky me, she arrived this month packed for the long haul. Eight days and counting. But I’m sure it will all be over soon. I have to believe this.

What's In The Name

What Deborah Means

You are balanced, orderly, and organized. You like your ducks in a row.You are powerful and competent, especially in the workplace.People can see you as stubborn and headstrong. You definitely have a dominant personality. You are friendly, charming, and warm. You get along with almost everyone.You work hard not to rock the boat. Your easy going attitude brings people together.At times, you can be a little flaky and irresponsible. But for the important things, you pull it together. You are full of energy. You are spirited and boisterous.You are bold and daring. You are willing to do some pretty outrageous things.Your high energy sometimes gets you in trouble. You can have a pretty bad temper at times. You are well rounded, with a complete perspective on life.You are solid and dependable. You are loyal, and people can count on you.At times, you can be a bit too serious. You tend to put too much pressure on yourself. You are wild, crazy, and a huge rebel. You're always up to something.You have a ton of energy, and most people can't handle you. You're very intense.You definitely are a handful, and you're likely to get in trouble. But your kind of trouble is a lot of fun. You are usually the best at everything ... you strive for perfection. You are confident, authoritative, and aggressive. You have the classic "Type A" personality. You are truly an original person. You have amazing ideas, and the power to carry them out.Success comes rather easily for you... especially in business and academia.Some people find you to be selfish and a bit overbearing. You're a strong person.

What's" Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

Hmmmmmm...not exactly but with some adjustments, maybe.

First, Son

My first look at your squirmy body and scrunchy face had my heart racing and my mind setting speed records to catch up. What will I do with you? What will I do for you? Everything. Everything. Little did you know that your arrival had the power to turn my existence into something called, life.
From those first nervous afternoons when it was just the two of us, through your first stabs at language, first tentative steps and all the firsts thereafter, you trusted me to comfort, guide and protect you. You saw fit to reward my efforts, fumbling though they may have been, by sleeping when I most needed you to, trying your best at every turn, making me laugh heartily and growing into a man of the highest caliber.
A man I am honored to call friend as well as son.

Happy Birthday, dear son. I am beyond excited to share and celebrate many more firsts with you.

Recipe

All the talk about soup and poring over the various ingredients lists kept me craving all night long. I still haven't decided what to prepare first. I am leaning toward the Turkey/Black Bean as I have most of those ingredients on hand. Tiff asked about the Thai Spiced Chicken, so here it is:

This is a slow cooker recipe, gleaned from a slow cooking magazine published by the Women's Day folks.

2 Tbsp vegetable oil
6 shallots, finely chopped
3 cups carrots, thinly sliced
4 stalks celery, thinly sliced
1 clove garlic, crushed
1 red chile, seeded and finely chopped
1 piece fresh ginger root (about 1 in. long), peeled and finely chopped
3 or 4 skinless, boneless chicken thighs (about 1 1/4 lb) diced
1 Tbsp Thai seven-spice seasoning
3/4 cup green beans, halved
4 cups chicken broth
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
3 ox spaghetti, broken into small lengths
3 Tpsp fresh cilantro, chopped

1. Heat oil in a large nonstick skillet; add shallots, carrots, celery, garlic, chile and giner and saute for 3 minutes.

2. Add chicken and cook until browned all over, stirring frequently. Add Thai spice adnd green beans; cook for 1 minute, stirring. Add broth, salt and pepper and bring to a boil.

3. Transfer to slow cooker, cover, reduce heat to Low and cook 5 hours. Stir in spaghetti, cover and cook on Low 1 to 2 hours, until spaghetti is cooked and tender. Stir in chopped cilantro and serve with fresh crusty bread.

Serves 6 Nutritionial info: 262 cal, 22 g pro, 25 g car, 4 g fib, 8 g fat (1 g sat fat), 28% cal from fat, 71 mg chol, 538 mg sod.

At first glance this soup recipe is not something I would have even considered. I like soup and I like using my slow cooker, or crock pot. Admittedly I can be intimidated by extensive or in my view, exotic ingredients lists. You see, while I can enjoy cooking, I really don't enjoy shopping for the food to cook. But on my seemingly never-ending quest to find foods and dishes that please my palate, my waist-line and satisfy my over-all health goals, I realize that I must step outside of my comfort zone.

Litany

He will be 46 years old soon. This birthday, as have many others, will be spent behind bars. He is currently a guest of the county, awaiting trial for his most recent caper. The ndictment handed down in December reads:

Burglary, theft, battery, unlawful possession of drug paraphernalia, possession of a weapon by a felon, possession of a defaced firearm, unlawful possession of firearm with FOID card, resisting a peace officer and obstructing a peace officer.


The weapon is a new twist to his repertoire.

When If convicted, my brother will likely serve 7.5 of a 15 year sentence.

It’s the same old song.

Super Soup-er

Today is the day.

Meet the candidates: Turkey and Black Bean Soup
Chicken Taco Soup
Thai Spiced Chicken Soup

All low-fat, one low cholesterol and one low sodium, too much to ask to have all three low elements in one soup, I guess. The Chicken Taco Soup recipe is much too high in sodium to really be a contender, but a consideration as it contains some favored ingredients.

Perhaps I can nix the Chicken Taco in favor of the Slow Cooker Pot Roast Soup which is also low-fat and though not low sodium or cholesterol, not out of the ballpark like the taco soup. Maybe I can fine tune the taco soup to tone down the sodium. Or maybe… Fudge.

Perhaps today isn’t the day to make decisions about slow cooker soup.

Perhaps my capacity to make a decision climaxed first thing this morning. Deciding on 3 of the 8 folks running for the Metropolitan Water Reclamation Commissioner office must have zapped all my reserves.

Spicy Squash Soup?? Or maybe AJ’s potato …

I'm cooked. Any suggestions?

Not So Hot Topic

I could talk about the weather. We got us some weather. Y’all may have heard, it was all over the news. It’s cold, windy and snowy. So what? It’s Janaury February, in Chicago (area), we know the drill, or should. I know, I know, I had a moment about the folks who don’t clear their walkways properly. There was even more snow this cycle around so the issue was, well, more. But, I’m over that. I’ll deal. I always have. I always will, so long as I live here, anyway.

Which brings the question, would/will I ever leave here?

Another day, perhaps, I’ll explore this question. Today, let’s talk about naps.

You’ve read the research, heard the reports, perhaps even know from first-hand experience, the power of naps.

I don’t take naps during my work week days. I would if I could. I wake most work mornings between 5:15 and 5:45, this, after logging into sleep for the night between 1:00 – 2:00 am. I start to feel it around 11 a.m. The hours between 11 – 2 are particularly tiring. I try to staunch the weariness by taking a walk and eating something sensible (usually, hopefully). My night-time sleep issues aside however, I believe a nap, even of the power variety, would prove energizing.

Rejuvenating.

Exhilarating.

Beneficial.

Now, granted I need to figure out a way to sleep better, longer at night. But, I also need to figure out a way to get the company to buy this chair and to have in placed in my space.

Sweet dreams.

Tantalizing

So juicy and plump, blushing red, sensuously yet surprisingly sweet, I’m encouraged to dive right in, oh my.

As the first taste caresses my lips I curse the condition that kept me from trying this delectable treat any sooner, oh my.

I’ve indulged my tastes, experimented with different ways to eat the great fruit. Always satisfying, always filling.

While tools are not mandatory, tissues are useful. Often though licking the juices from my fingers and my lips to savor every drop is my preferred method of enjoyment. Privacy is essential.

It is grapefruit season and Ruby Reds are peaking right now. The grapefruit is so named because the seeds brought to the West Indies by Captain Shaddock produced a fruit, smaller than today’s version that grew in a grapelike cluster on the tree. Introduced to the US in the early 1800s they weren’t terribly popular. Skin too thick, too many seeds and juice too sour were the chief complaints. Growers have dramatically improved the flavor and texture. I've read that grapefruit consumption is definitely on the rise.

Count me among the converted to the grapefruit appreciation society.

Grapefruit, it’s what’s for breakfast.

Nineteen Seventy-Seven, Eight

This letter to my seven-teen year old self is inspired by Maria who was inspired by Brad.

Dear Seven-teen year old You,

Snap. That was yet another straw threatening to break the proverbial back. Mom changed her mind and instead of spending your summer preparing for dorm life you’re working as many hours as you can possibly muster, just to stay out of the hovel not a home. You know you must find a way out, you just don’t have any idea how to manage that feat, yet.

The eventual escape comes at a high price, a debt that will be re-paid, someday.

You begin to feel a fondness for Velda that transcends that sisterly vibe you had goin’ on. This new feeling confounds you to no end. You try to ignore it, unable to do so, you bury it, deep. Very deep. Years later those feelings, refusing to remain buried, burst forth in shock and then comfort. You learn to welcome these feelings, learn to welcome love.

I want to tell you a great deal, I want to tell you everything. I’ll leave you with this: learn to trust yourself. Trust your feelings, your voice, your heart and above all else, your head. Don’t shy away from what makes you happy. Granted, you don’t fit with your family, the neighborhood, the mold. Learn to embrace your differences, celebrate your uniqueness. Don’t become a prisoner to everyone else’s perception of what or who you should be. Treat yourself to honest inspection and generous interpretations. Follow your own paths.

Well, try.

My Very Best Regards,
Forty-Seven Year Old You

D Bugging, Not

Vestiges of wilting garlands, limping wreaths and fading twinkle lights clinging to eaves, porch railings and yard ornaments were beginning to bug. I mean come on people it's over. Move on. My old pal Frizzy and the newest addition to our non-breathing fuzz patrol, Miranda bid a final farewell to the season over a week ago. Two weeks too late mind you, but gone are all symbols of the season in our little abode. However, back to being bugged or rather not bugged. The leftover holiday decorations stew was beginning to bug me that is until the snow and deep, deep freeze arrived. Talk about bugging. But I'm not. Nope, not bugged about the weather (except by this) but not talking about that today.

Obviously there is much more I could be bugged about. Today though I'd rather focus on some of the other things not bugging me at the moment. Given the givens I'm pretty happy these days. Would I rather be able to wrap my arms around my girlfriend any old time I pleased? Oh, honey, yes! Would I rather be thinner? No diggity, no doubt. Would I rather be wealthier if for no other reason that to be able to do (or have done) all the repairs & updates around the condo? Well, sure. Would I rather be less inclined to pop commas after every third word? Yep Yep. What about the things I can't can't change? Yes, I'd like to be able to right some universal wrongs.

But I was talking about not being bugged. For instance, I am not bugged by my son. M has a new lady friend. They've been on a handful of dates. They met (I think) at a party and though both live in the city he and she have been writing letters back and forth. Actual letters, not e-mails. Like mom, like son (see 29), I guess. One of these dates lasted 12 hours during which time they were briefly locked inside of a zoo. Or thought they were. He'll be spending his birthday evening (in two weeks) with the new lady friend. I get the honor of taking him to brunch or lunch the next day. He talked about wanting to meet at Ann Sather’s. I hear it's a pretty popular spot and pretty crowded on the weekends so I'm not sure that will work. No matter where though, younger D and I will be donning our hiking boots and heading northeast to connect with him. We've got to tease him hear all about the lady friend, in living color and over copious amounts (for him) of food.

Nor am I bugged that the cat has returned to his middle of the night play with mommy games. A door broke so the separate sleeping quarters idea is suspended until repairs can be made. Or perhaps not as he has suspended his less than pleasant activity and has moved on to rubbing nose-to-nose and stroking my head. Apparently he too took issue with Norman's work.

My daughter’s work schedule changed again. This doesn't bug me eventhough it means that three days a week I'm walking her our dog at 6:45 a.m. as she must be walked and fed before I leave for work by 7:30. D, the younger, has been taken out of the kennels on those and is working in the clinic assisting the veterinarian with surgeries and other duties, hence her earlier start time. Younger D is most pleased with this development and I'm happy to be able to help. It is cold as a witch's tit at 6:45 a.m. but with the extra layers I hardly notice.

The new year brought new responsibilities and changes to Neta's schedule which has had an impact on our talk time. And while I miss her and our time together. I'm not bugging. No. 'Tis necessary and I'm with her all the way. We simply make the most of the time we do get to talk. Yum.

At the very top of my not bugging list, well, bottom in this case, but tops in my mind right now is my barber, Norman after only one prompt to take more off the top got it closer to right. I am however going to take Sassy's advice and take a snapshot. I'll take the photo to a couple of the other barbers in the neighborhood and see if they can do what Norman did--only a smidge better.

Kitty Here ! !

Nearly two weeks to the day since he left, Mr. Bobo the cat has returned. He was on the porch when Neta got in from work last night. He was cold, dirty, hungry and a little irritable. Neta says he sneezed a bit and his ears felt a bit warm. He and the lovely Lill-i-an didn’t have a warm and fuzzy reunion but by this morning they seemed to be getting back on friendly terms.

Welcome home Bobo.

Question

You’re out in the elements clearing snow from your walkways. Why in the love of Petra would you clear a path so narrow chickens would have difficulty passing?

Folks in wheelchairs, with strollers, shopping carts and those of us who use at least two feet to walk would appreciate a little more ground clearance. And while you’re out there, how about clearing that mound from the intersection curb so folks can cross the street without having to regret missing that mountain climbing course at the rec center. And oh, by the way, in our town you are bound by law to clear your walkways within 24 hours of the last snowfall.

Be a good neighbor, mmmkay? Thanks.

Again With The Hair

After several visits to a barber (the second since the closer crop makeover) he informs that there is a hole in my head. Well, of course there is. Since my very first visit I’d tried to get this barber to cut my hair low. Lower, it seems than HE is comfortable. I think it’s because I’m a woman.

I could be wrong. Still…

Every time he deems himself done & presents a mirror for me to approve the cut, I have to request more off the top. Please. This last time he used the hole as his excuse for not going shorter. I explained (or tried to) what I was after. He clipped some more but when he presented the mirror again, I didn’t see any changes. I settled again for the not short enough cut.

I like this guy. He’s close, friendly and relatively inexpensive. But, I need him to cut my hair the way I want.

I’m going to give him another chance because I’ve waited too long (again) and this bushy-top is driving me nutty. But along with needing a new dentist and possibly a new medical doctor, I may be on the hunt for a new barber (again) soon.

Here, Kitty Kitty

While with my sugar I got to meet our new kitty,Lily or as we've taken to calling her, the Lovely Lillian or Lill-i-an (with the requisite musical lilt). Neta told me how much Lily resembled Pete. I was struck by just how much. With the exception of her very short legs, she could very nearly be Pete's clone. Lily may not be a true munchkin but she comes very close. To say that she is the sweetest kitty I've ever met would be the understatement of the millennium. She's a nightly kneader, Neta calls it "making biscuits" and it is just precious. Last Wednesday both Lily and Bobo got outside. Neta called me as usual Thursday morning after having been up all night and beside herself with worry. Bobo got outside and sometime during the late night, early morning hours during one of Neta's many trips to the door calling for him, Lily slipped out. Lily has since returned. We were talking late on Saturday night and Neta heard her cry. She was cold, dirty and scared but otherwise un-harmed. The Lovely Lillian has been glued to Neta's side since her return. I am anxious to see her (and her other mommy) again, to say the least.

Neta continues to look and call for Bobo. She has placed an ad and is contacting shelters. We keep hope alive for Bobo's safe return. Here, kitty kitty Mr. Bobo, Lily is missing you, Neta is missing you and I am missing your special brand of cat love in our lives.

P is for..

D and I called one another at least once a day while I was away. Just checking in, we talked about the weather, the pets and my mom, usually. Thursday, the third of January was different. She called shortly after getting off work, as usual. I gave her my usual greeting, “hey D, how ya’ doin’?”
She stopped me cold with…”mom, don’t panic.”

Well, I didn't, much. D was in an auto accident. While she was able to settle me some,convince me that she was fine physically and would be emotionally in fairly short order, it took a bit of time for my heart rate to return to normal. Neta came home to lunch that day to a less than serene Deborah. But, “no, baby, I don’t need to go home, she’s fine” I assured.

The rest of the visit progressed without further (troubling) incident. D and I continued check in with one another daily. I returned home to a daughter frantically trying to adjust to the fact that she will have to take a public transpo train to work for the foreseeable future.

My daughter is not quite the veteran I am when it comes to public transportation. "Sweety, it will be fine, try to relax, stay alert and allow yourself plenty of time."

I didn't mention the P word once.

You're the Boss, Applesauce

For the past, oh I don’t know, 20 months or so, my boss, the VP/General Manager, has hemmed and hawed, moaned and groaned, rubbed new groves in his forehead from all the rubbing and sucked in enough air from sighing that if he were to harness it he would match the output of our very large warehouse fan, over the lack of focus, attention to detail & follow-through and general incompetence of between one to five of our seven employees.

Though the neglectful and in some cases, deceptive acts have continued unabated, the boss hasn't done much more than hem, haw and issue what has amounted to empty threats of salary reductions or terminations for nearly two years.

Color me flabbergasted when at annual review time he gave EVERYBODY a pay raise, again. He passed on this bit of news very late, giving me only a few days before calendar year-end and the start of my vacation to hammer out the 2008 budget.

Well, I get the budget and other year-end duties done. I go on vacation and I have a fab… well, you know. Now only four days into my return to work the boss is livid, once again, over an act or acts committed by one or more of the aforementioned ne’er-do-wells on staff.

His response to the straw breaking camel’s back infraction is to make one guy a supervisor, the guy who was the supervisor/manager only a manager and to give that one guy (the new supervisor) a higher pay raise than previously reported and to take away the raise of the other guy (supervisor/manager) as well as take away the raises of the other 3 guys in the department.

Yeah, I know. Huh? Indeed.

For me, personally and directly, it means re-creating the freakin’ 2008 budget.

Shiiiiiiiiiit.

F Words

First and foremost, I was finally there to look into, caress and kiss her face. The feel of my fingers wrapped perpetually around hers and vice versa felt fabulously fine.

The first day and the days to come was and will be filled with Fs. Fs in the dress of forms. Forms, forms, forms, long forms, short forms, blue forms, green forms. Frantic forms.

F-U-N-K

Forms coupled with follow-up. Emails to retrieve and replies to fashion. There are voice messages to decipher, employees and employers to de-brief, most of which leads back to forms and formats. Mere seconds after the happy New Year greetings did who, what, why, where, did, have you questions and requests flow.

F-U-D-G-E

Forms and functionality require focus which is in short supply the first day back and the days that will follow as I am fighting the urge to flee once again to the comfort of her arms, face and the feel of fingers. Hers, mine. Ours.

Every ounce of focus that can be harnessed is directed to attending responsibilities at home and work. Continuing to fuel my tank is the thought and work needed to move forward towards our being together again finally. And forever!

Fun
Fuse
Form
Family