Scared Pantless

I wear a bone conducting headset like the one below.

Last night Rick fell asleep in his ugly chair. It was late but I really wanted to finish something I had recorded on HGTV.

Since he was asleep I changed the channel and using Bluetooth on my TV I put on my headset. This way it could be loud but Rick couldn't hear anything.

When my show was over, I woke Rick to go to bed.

Off to bed we went. I fell asleep pretty quickly.

Around 2AM Rick heard people talking in the house. It was faint but he was sure it was people talking. He grabbed his baseball bat and began to go towards the hall as quietly as he could. 

Now you need to know this, Rick sleeps naked.

So with his bat and naked he walks into the hall.

As he's telling me all this, this morning, I am snickering, "so you're naked, holding a bat with a big stick,eh?"

At least it made the man laugh.

As he got into the hall is when he heard a TV commercial. When he got into the living room he saw that the TV was off, No one was in our home. However I did not turn off my headset last night. I just took it off and went to bed. I put it on the coffee table. He was hearing my headset. How he heard this I will never know. It was so faint and not close by.

This stroke has given him the ability to hear and smell like a dog...except when I talk of course.

Needless to say he was thrilled no one had broken into our home. But I got an earful. We had some good laughs this morning about it. Thankfully for the insipid TV commercial with the lawyer on top of a semi screaming "I'm on top of it", he could relax.

As he was enjoying his morning coffee, he turned to me and said, "This is going to be blog fodder isn't it?"

He knows me so well

English

Yes, I did sound grumpy yesterday, and I apologize.  I guess depression makes me grumpy. So you've been warned.

I took speech classes for 7 years.  First grade to 7th grade.

I was taken out of reading class to go to my speech class. I was made fun of for this, and I hated it. But I loved the people in my class. Especially Heather, who could not say her TH's or her S's.  But she had a monkey in her home, and that thrilled me. Of course, my mom said it was terrible. "Imagine how that house must smell."

I didn't care; I wanted to go to her house and see her monkey. She brought in pictures, but I wanted to touch it, hold it. But never got to damn it. 

I know I've told you this before,  but it's been 14 yrs  :-)

I could not say my Rs, and I would stutter occasionally.  Especially when I was trying not to, as funny as that sounds.

I spoke like Bugs Bunny's friend Elmer Fudd. Wabbit, Wadio, Wick.  Yep, that was me.  I still, from time to time, slip, and boy, Rick catches it so quickly. 

I swear on my mother's grave that this is the only time that man is actually listening to me. 

When working in Manhattan, I would stop at a pharmacy that I had difficulty saying without the first word, then stop and say the 2nd word. Put them together, and I sound like Elmer Fudd.  Duane Reade was the pharmacy.

Duane Weade it would become if it was said together. After all these years, that one still gets me.

 

The ever-loving ball buster, Rick (or wick), would say, "What's that pharmacy in NY where you got xyz?"  I knew what he was doing, so I'd tell him CVS.  He would just laugh. I usually gave him the finger after that too and laughed.

The other day at a doctor's office, the nurse told me I had such good diction. I laughed and thought about ole Elmer Fudd. I just said thank you. She asked if I took speaking lessons. I told her no, but in grade school I did take speech classes for a stutter and my R's.  She also said, "I thought maybe it was just because you were from up north."  I just laughed to myself at that thinking. 

What do they think is going on above the Mason-Dixon line?

That evening Rick and I got settled onto the couch to watch a movie on a streaming service. We had to stop the movie. Every woman spoke like it was a question. 

Up-speak, we call it.  I have a drink in my hand?  Oh my, that was annoying after a while. Their speech patterns were so weird and a bit Californian that we just couldn't stomach the show.  I turned to Rick and said, "Why didn't they get to go to speech class to learn how to speak?"  He laughed and said he thinks that generation thinks it's cool to speak like they haven't had an education.  That made me laugh.

Then I said, "God, Rick, we're so fucking old."  

We then found another movie where they were British, and I just couldn't understand a thing they said unless I had closed captions on.  It was a night of different languages.  All English. Yet neither of which I seemed to know. But at least this was a good show.

Thankfully, Ted Lasso is back as of last night

God, how I love this show. And heaven knows my husband loves the show and loves Hannah Waddington even more. I told him it could be his hall pass because, you know, she'd want an old guy with a limp and who is poor.  He laughed and said, "Well, you just never know, now do ya?" 

Ted Lasso makes me happy; it's good for what ails me, I suppose.

Do you watch it?  I wish Ted Lasso were president. Oh hell, I wish anyone would be president with a brain and who doesn't shit his pants or lies.  I'll stop there; that could be a whole paragraph.

So do you watch Ted Lasso if you have Apple TV, and if not, why not?  

I genuinely am interested. 

 _______________

Yes, It's August

 Yes, Abby, it is August. Not sure I'm up for this, but will try.

I'm struggling right now. I don't think I wish to go into it right now, but I'm sure I will at some point.

I will share with you that since I have been staring into the abyss, I have also spent many hours staring at the tube.  Sometimes watching, sometimes just staring.

From all I've seen on television -

There is a block of I Love Lucy, Dick Van Dyke, Mary Tyler Moore.

That is comfort for me. I love old sitcoms. I don't know why but it's like a shot of dopamine for me and it is needed.

I did watch Ride or Die on Prime, and I liked that. Octavia Spencer and my husband's girlfriend, Hannah Waddington.  It was far better than I'd have thought. It was funny, along with the action. I love both of these actresses, so it was a good watch for me and Rick. That doesn't happen often since we both like such different genres.  Action is not usually something I like but the humor in this made it different.

As I continued to stare at stupid insipid shit on TV, I am convinced Carmen Electra is rude and stupid. Not a good combo. There is a show about the dumbest celebrity. I think she will win. I don't know the name because I was just staring, mostly out the window, really.

If I never see that show again, it will be fine. The remote was across the room, and I was too lazy to fetch it. Yes, I know that is awful.

In the wee hours while I'm awake, I did watch a marathon of Dateline.

Just once, honestly, just once, I'd love them to say the person who was killed was a horrible person and mean to everyone. But they are always the best person around, kind-hearted, life of the party.  

And finally our TV. Our television was going nuts. It would change channels on its own. It went from Netflix to Channel 5 news. Then another night it flashed on and off a few times in a row.  It's been wild. Poltergeist again? 

If it had been our power, other things would also have flashed. 

It did this for a full two days and suddenly stopped as quickly as it started.  Whatever it was, it got our attention; that is for certain.

Tipping - 

I am sick to death of tipping. I was a waitress for many years in my teens and 20s. I did not make minimum wage, so tipping was the way to make a living wage. But the woman at the coffee shop who takes my order gets paid minimum wage; why must I tip her? Then they shove the tablet in front of you and ask, are you tipping. I want to say for what?  You handed me my drink; that is what your job is, right?

Now here's the biggest rub for me. Hairdressers.  

They should not be tipped, I'm sorry. 

But God forbid you don't, and see what happens to your hair.

I went to a salon when I lived in Ohio.  There was a sign that said, We are professionals, like your doctor.  Do you tip her/him?  We do not accept tips.  

My hairdresser charges $100 for a cut.  So that is $120 every time I get a cut with tip.  If she does 10 haircuts a day for 5 days, that is 24K a month. Why am I tipping her?  That is roughly $250K a year.  Now that is only if she did cuts. But coloring, as you know, is several hundred more; extensions, etc., are all much more. It really infuriates me that one must tip a hairdresser.

When my gyno put fuzzy slippers over her stirrups, should I have tipped her?

My hairdresser in VA back in the late 90's was making 150K a year working 3 days a week, she told me. Again, why do we tip them? 

I am an over tipper when it comes to service at a restaurant. I also tip the porter who carried my bags or the bellman. 

I honestly can't understand in this backward town that haircuts are higher than those in the big cities I've lived in. There was a place charging $35 that I tried when I moved here. I wore a hat for a month.  

Okay, that rant is over.

I haven't laughed a lot of late, but this did make me smile. So damn true!!

                                       

                                     Who is gonna tell her?

Time Away

 I need to take some time away from the blog.

I imagine I'll be back in August and hope you'll all come back!!

❤️

Pizza

Honestly, if I had known that as an adult that I would have to figure out what to make for dinner for the rest of my damn life, I may have rejected adulthood!

Rick and I went to the local farmers market for veggies and fruit yesterday.

Then I spent the afternoon cleaning and rearranging the pantry.  It also stores appliances and a plethora of things like a wok, etc.  

When I got out of the pantry, I saw what time it was. Oh shit, dinner.  

Rick walked in from the garage all hot and sweaty, and he said to me like I'm a 1950's housewife that he was getting hungry.  

I asked what he was hungry for, hoping he'd say an Arby's and he'd go fetch. 

But nope.

Rick told me he wasn't hungry for anything really. 

He then asked, "What would you like me to cook?"

(you just saved your ass buddy)

I said, " Anything your heart desires."  

He stands in front of the pantry and then fridge and proclaims, "I'm going to go shower."  Where the hell is he going? Now?

I had a gluten-free pizza shell in the pantry.  Now are these good?  Oh hell no, it's more like a cracker crust. Made by a company in Europe, and they are called Schar's. Now, when someone raved to me about it, I had to try them.

When I made and ate this for the first time, I was shocked. 

She raved like this was the best thing ever eaten.  Oh, it was not.

But I now understand. None of them are good, and this one is better than most.

It really does fulfill my pizza craving.

Now to my point.  When Rick got out of the shower, I suggested we do our own thing.  He had leftover lasagna, or he could make a burger, and we still had some potato salad. 

He asked what I was going to make for myself if he had any of the above. 

I told him a white pizza.

He said, "Would you share your white pizza with me?"

"Did you forget this is a gluten-free shell, cardboard of sorts?"

"I didn't forget, but I think a white pizza sounds great"

So I filled my house with the aroma of garlic in the olive oil warming.

We both put together the pizza, and it was fabulous. As Rick said, even on a bad crust, it was 5 stars.  I must learn how to make gf pizza dough. 

This morning when we woke up, we both said simultaneously, "It smells like garlic in here" and laughed.  Thankfully, we both love that smell. My theory is that even though we both brushed our teeth after dinner and in the morning, we probably still smelled like garlic, but if you both eat it, you cross each other out. :-)  That's my theory, and I'm stickin' to it.

Tonight is another lazy dinner. I love these.

BLT's.  We got some great-looking tomatoes at the farmers market, and we have bacon and lettuce.  No, not Taylor Farms lettuce!  That's all we'd need!  With my luck these last couple of years, I'm not eating any fruit or veggies from the grocery store.  This parasite is bad!  But then what parasites are good?  Hmm....

Weather

Fire, Flooding and Heat.

Wherever you live in the US one of these is in your area.

My friend in Erie PA said their town looked apocalyptic from all the smoke coming from the Ontario wildfires. It must be awful. I saw video of NYC and you could barely see the buildings. 

I am dealing with heat and a drought with water restrictions. My plants are not loving this weather either. 

I watched an HBO documentary in the 80s. Orson Wells was the narrator. It was about Nostradamus. I remember a few things vividly. This weather he wrote about and the time frame is one of them. And its happening. Wild.

I hope wherever you live you're high and dry, not floating away or melting. Be safe.

Where I've Been

Where have I been? 

Not doing anything fun, that is for certain!

Doctors and more doctors.  

We have begun to play games again.

We used to do that a great deal in the winter when we lived up north.

So we decided that, since it's too damn hot to be on the patio or anywhere without a pool, we were going to stay indoors and play games.

Now Rick and I are both so competitive. Me, maybe even more so, but I will never admit it to Rick. 🤭

Rick likes to play games that he knows will be difficult for me.

Like anything with spelling or math.

He wanted to play Scrabble, and I quickly said no.  He laughs.

The last time we played, he got beaten. He can't let it go.  I, who can't spell a lick, won, and boy, that bugs him so.  It does make me laugh because how I won was funny to me.  I entered the word 'id'.  What the hell is that? he asks.

Before I can answer, he says it's not a word. I insist it is.

He tells me to use it in a sentence.

Okay. I won Scrabble tonight with the word id.

He didn't find that as funny as me.

He grabs a dictionary.  I tell him that it is against the rules.

He replies with so are made-up words. I tell him what it means.

Now he is laughing and saying bullshit.

He looks it up. Guess who won?  This is such a thorn in his side; it is very funny.

So we had to play another game of Scrabble, and I let him win.  HA HA 

Seriously, he just won fair and square, but it was close for a bit.  He felt so much better.

Backgammon is another game we used to play a lot.  So we pulled out the backgammon game.  I won, and he swore I cheated as we both laughed. He has never won a game of backgammon against me. Since 1987.  I like that. 

So that led us to the following week to play poker. 

Because he plays poker, he thought he'd teach me. I know he did it so he could win, but I went along. 

I can never remember what is better. I kept referring to it like Yatzee.  He didn't like that. But he did make me a cheat sheet so I could look at it and see what is better than another etc.

Now, Rick is not observant, so for the love of God, I do not know how he wins at poker sometimes. You see, Rick has a lot of "tells"  

When he puts his tongue on his lips, I know he has nothing.

When he plays with his chips, he has nothing.

So yes, I won at poker, and my God, he wanted to know how the hell I kept winning. I finally told him 3 of his tells. He was shocked.  

I told him he had to pay attention to more than just his cards.

He put the cards on the table and said, "How about go fish?"

I just laughed and said, Nope, I just don't wanna see you cry babe"

We are the weirdos who like game shows like Password, 1% Club, and Quiz with balls. 

The first time I watched the 1% club, I made it to the last question and blew it. 

Have not gotten that close since.

The Quiz with balls is easier. They had a category that was baseball. Rick said, "I'm cooked."  Yep, I knew them all. We used to play Password all the time.  He and I are a good team. He gets me, and how my crazy mind works, so we are a formidable team.  Then there is jeopardy.  I suck at Jeopardy. Unless it's Geography, TV, music, or fluff questions. I am awesome at college or celebrity Jeopardy because those questions are far easier.

The other night, there was a geography question, and he asked how the hell I knew that. I said I worked in the travel industry. Before I was in travel software, I was a travel agent. I would need to know where places are located, don't you think?  

He just pfff'd me. 

Do you play games as an adult? What games are you good at?  

The Holiday Weekend

We all saw the videos and pictures of the 5 people who attended Trump's big American Fair.  Everyone was at the Pride Parade, a few blocks over :-) I loved it. If I still lived there, that's where I'd have been.

This weekend, Demented Donnie is speaking to the masses (HA HA) for the 4th of July. It's going to be 110 and humid as all hell. I am hoping for his orange to melt down his face. Okay, truth - I am wishing for death by heat stroke on this 80-year-old creep.

Teddy Roosevelt also said the following:

God help us. I love my country, but I despise that guy. No, I can't call him my president. He didn't win. He cheated. Not mine!

With the World Cup here, we are seeing all these Europeans get excited about air conditioning in our homes and stadiums, etc.  They giggle like little children, and it's so cute. They seem to love our food, the free coffee refills at the diner, and the free pop refills. I've been watching quite a few of these types of videos, and they are both funny and touching. The one man was told Texas was the size of 6 European countries, and his eyes got huge. He kept saying it's such a huge country. Hey buddy, Canada is bigger. :-)  

They seemed to find Walmart, Buc-ee's, and Chick-fil-A awesome.  '

I find all 3 of those just Yuck. 

Well, Chick-fil-A, I've never eaten at and won't due to their LGBTQ discrimination.

Some of them cried at the Grand Canyon and couldn't believe it was real.

And lastly, we talk to everyone, and that was a biggie to them. 

Standing in line, your wait staff, etc. Yes, that's me. If someone is reading a map, don't you ask if they need some help?  

Apparently, in the UK, none of that is done. That is wild to me. 

A lot of those from the UK said you also don't say hello to someone you don't know if you pass them on the sidewalk. Really?  At least nod and smile? Wow.

We take a lot for granted, don't we?  

I am shutting down my phone and computer. 

No social media of any sort after today.

I want a nice, calm, quiet weekend in my cool home, staying inside.

(and not falling)

Wishing you all a Happy 4th. 

Hot Enough?

Hi Blogger Friends.

I haven't had any comments, so no one missed me, I see.

😁

My life in blog terms - 

I watched the Obama Presidential Library Opening. It was so damn good to see good orators, kind people, and no bullying. Hmm, imagine that! Mrs. Obama kicked ass with her speech! 

Everyone kept saying 'The Southside of Chicago.' 
And each time  I'd sing, 'is the baddest part of town'

Just me? That's what I heard in my twisted little mind. 

The old song Leroy Brown. Does anyone remember that song?

Each time it was said, Rick and I'd sing the next line, "is the baddest part of town'
Last night, it was mentioned again while we watched the local news.

Of course, it was on TV in the living room, and we were in the kitchen, but we both simultaneously sang it anyway and then laughed. 

After watching the Neil Diamond movie, we did the same thing.

Every time we hear, "Good Times Never Seemed So Good,"  we nutjobs sing, "so good, so good." 🎵  We do amuse ourselves, don't we?

______________

I wanted to make Rick cream puffs because he was whining about me not baking.

He made this fabulous dinner the night before, and I figured I could make him dessert. It's an easy and quick dessert.  

I went into the pantry and reached for my old cookbook because I do not remember the measurements by heart.  I was dizzy as I reached up, but I was able to get it down from the shelf. I grabbed hold of a shelf and tried to steady myself, but it wasn't exactly helping me.

I turned around, and now I was very, very dizzy. I grabbed the door frame of the pantry and attempted to walk out. I could barely walk. But the kitchen island was just a foot away. I reached for it to get a firm hold, and down I went. I smacked into the island face-first and then down to the floor I went. 

I chipped my front 2 teeth, and I got a big ole fat lip.  This was a Saturday.  

I called my dentist's office, and they were closed.  My fat lip was bleeding like a stuck pig.

Rick was in the garage when all this took place, working on a project of his.

He walked in and saw me on the floor and freaked out. I told him I was fine, but I needed to sit on the floor for a bit until I felt very steady.

Rick got me up and asked to see my mouth. Being the ever supportive spouse, he said, "Gee, now they won't call you a Yankee all the time, you look like you're from here, babe,"    ha ha funny boy. 

My dentist opens at 8am on Monday. I called at 8:02 a.m. 

I was taking no chances of missing an opening. 

NONE available until Wednesday, but only in their Cary office. 

The person on the phone asked if I was willing to drive there.

Hell yes, I'll drive anywhere to not wait another week. 

So Wednesday it was. (today)   

I just know I can't walk around with a chipped front tooth like this.

Yes, I'm that vain. 

In the meantime, I had a doctor's appointment on Tuesday for a nerve test. All part of finding out why I'm falling. I wore a mask just like I did during Covid.  I did not wish to have people see me with my front teeth like this. I would have preferred I had broken a bone for Pete's sake.

I am a damn hot mess.  My left boob is purple, black, and blue, as is my left shoulder and arm. I look like I've been beaten. And I feel like that too.

I got to the neurologist's office for this test. Once taken to the back, I was asked if I was sick or if anyone in my home was.  I said no. I said the mask was because I fell, and I have a big fat lip and chipped front teeth. For whatever reason, she said they didn't care if I wore it or let my chipped teeth exposed. I chose to keep my mask on. No one needs to see this! 

Especially the beautiful, big scab that has decided to rear its ugly head on my top lip.  I'm cute as hell, guys.

Thank God I had nowhere to go on Tuesday. I could stay with my ugly mug in my home.  This morning my appointment was at 9:30a

I didn't know where I was going, so I gave myself extra time.  

Thankfully, it was easy to find, and it was easy to fix for today.  

I will have to go back next week. She wants to see if there is any change in the fractures of the left tooth.  

If either of them turns gray, that means a root canal. 

Oh, please God, no root canal!!

She fixed me for now, so I can go about society without looking like a hillbilly.

Hurts like hell, and hot and cold don't feel so great either.

Eating has become difficult, believe it or not. I won't bore you with those details, but I will share that this is a great diet plan. :-)

On top of all that, I had computer issues. Argh! 

As of right now, everything is working just fine, me and the computer.

I think I should quit while I'm ahead.

Rick is wrapping me in bubble wrap for the weekend, he said.

He came into the house with his roll of bubble wrap, and I howled.

I needed that big laugh after all this shit.

It's too freaking hot to be outside for the 4th of July holiday.

No BBQ for us unless it's indoors. We are heat wusses.

102, 103, ooh, only 100.  Nope.  I would prefer snow at this rate.

The humidity is thick. 

I know everyone from the Midwest to the East Coast is under this heat dome, and we're all miserable. Thank God for Air Conditioning. I feel for anyone who doesn't have it.

The West is on fire, Kentucky is underwater, Wyoming got snow, I saw on the news, and the rest of the country is burning up.

And trump is still in what is left of the White House, damn it.

I sincerely hope all my American friends have a safe and wonderful 4th of July weekend. 

Where's Margaret?

Out of commission here in Margaretland.

Computer issues to boot!!

 Can't blog from my phone. I'm an old fart

Hope to be back later in week🤞

Hope

 Busy, busy, busy here. Of course, nothing fun - lots of doctors' appointments.

We were at a neurology appointment for Rick yesterday.

I went to see this Dr. when dealing with back issues. He helped me a lot, but said surgery was my only option, as everyone else told me. He did give me temporary relief, but as he said, "it's only temporary"  

Rick has been having a lot of pain in his left side. The side that doesn't function well since the stroke. His left foot bothers him more, not because of pain, but because he can't walk well. So Rick wanted that addressed first.

His left hand is in constant pain. Hot and cold on it will make him go crazy.

I convinced him he had nothing to lose by seeing him and getting a consultation.

We were 4 people sitting in the small waiting room.

We all had on navy.

I said to the 2 women across from me that I see they too got the memo to wear navy blue. They laughed.

Then, a few minutes later, out of the blue, Rick asked them, "Are you from Michigan?"

Both mouths dropped open. They looked back and forth at one another. 

I turned to Rick and said, "Why did you ask that? Are they wearing something I don't see that says Michigan?"  

"No, I just felt it."

Okay, that is weird.

The ladies asked how he knew it. He told them he just felt it.  Please don't be scared of me.  They laughed and said, "We are not scared, just flabbergasted"

When Rick was called back to see the doctor, it was then just the 3 of us.

The woman asks me if Rick does this often.  I said, "Oh yes, and since the stroke, it's even more now.  I wish he'd feel lottery number for Pete's sake.

The women asked if they could ask a couple of questions, for example, about another time.  I told them recently he awoke and said, "Our niece A is pregnant."

I responded, "No, she's not." I just talked to her. 

Trying, but it's not happened yet. He said, "Yes, it has"

I called A and told her Rick's "feeling". She screamed. I just found out 3 minutes ago - I am pregnant, Peggy. I haven't told even M. yet (her husband). How did he know?  

Beats me, kiddo.

I told them the biggest one for me was 9/11.

I worked in Manhattan even though I lived in DC/VA.

I was leaving very early on the 10th and staying until the 13th.

Rick said at breakfast that he didn't want me to go.

I laughed and said what are you talking about.

He told me he saw tall skyscrapers falling in NYC.

I, being ever the smart ass, ask, well, do you know where, I'll stay away from that part of the city?

Oh, but he was adamant with me not to go. I did go.

We all know what happened the next day!

Then the dr.'s nurse came out and asked for me.

I looked at the 2 women and said, "wanna bet he doesn't know what medication he takes?"  They laughed, and one said, "I could give my husband poison, and he'd take it. He doesn't know his medications either.

We laughed, and I walked back to the area of the dr and Rick.

Rick must have a lot of tests next. He hopes he can help Rick. 

As Rick said later in the car. At the very least, he is willing to try. No one else ever gave him options, just that this is it, buddy. Be thankful you're alive.

We shall see. But this is the 1st time in 3 years Rick has felt hope. 

Hope is always a good thing. 

Monday Morning

 Hellava sports weekend at my home

The Carolina Hurricanes won the Stanley Cup.

That has my town all a twitter.

It's been crazy good.

Then the Knicks.  I don't even like basketball all that much, but I had to see that last game.  Wow, I did not think they were going to pull this off.

And of course, we root for the NY teams, so we were happy to see that.

Then my baseball team went to the Great White North.  We never win up there. But we took 2 out of 3, and I'll take that.

So my weekend was good since all my teams won. :-)

Now to the things I don't like.

1. Wind Chill

2. Heat Index

3. Water restrictions, along with neighbors like Gladys Kravitz

4. Tell us what you really mean.

5. Contractors who don't show up.

1. Why do we need this?  If it's 12 degrees Fahrenheit, I don't need to know it feels like 3 degrees. It's damn cold. Let it go. Let me freeze, I'll figure it out.

2. See above.  It was 99 the other day. They had to tell me it felt like 106.  Oh, goody, I feel better now.  argh!  It's hot. Let it go. I have boob sweat. I know how hot it is.  Or as my friend's little boy says, "Mom, I have butt sweat."  Now that made me laugh.

3. We are having a severe drought. Fines for watering your plants and flowers. Neighbors turning in neighbors. I hate seeing all that money; those plants die. But watching out your window to turn in your neighbors just doesn't feel right to me.

4. I want to hurt people when I say something, and they respond with, "Tell us how you really feel."  Well, Karen, I just did. What I wish to say is, "I just told you. How dumb are you?" I smile, say nothing, and don't even respond to their stupid comment/question.

5. 2nd time in a month that a contractor did not show up again.

They must be so rich that they don't need to work. Oh, this is when I miss my handyman, Rick. Worse part of this damn stroke. Well, not quite.

My Boyfriend

It appears I have a type.

My boyfriend, Craig Ferguson, has a show on CNN.

It's called American On Purpose.

I only tuned in because I love him. 

In the meantime, I found that I love this show as well.

I must admit I didn't expect to hear words like shit and fuck on CNN, but I did. 

All done in a funny way.

Watching this show, Rick pointed out that my other boyfriend, Gerard Butler, is also Scottish. My husband is Scottish and Nordic.  So it appears I have a type.  All 3 are very tall as well. Yes, we short girls love our men tall.  You know, so you can reach things for us. :-)

When I did my ancestry, I told everyone I wanted to find out that I was Irish or Scottish or something equally exotic to me. Everyone laughed at me.

This was before I had my 2 boyfriends, mind you.  

Sadly, I was 97% Italian and 2% Cypress and 1% African.  The ole slave trade from Africa to Sicily, I imagine.  

Needless to say, I wasn't Scottish.  But I seem to like the men now, don't I?

Whether you do or not, and you're American, this show is very good.  

History with a great deal of humor.

It makes me forget the hell we Americans are living right now.

Missing Something?

Picture this.

Rick walked into the living room, sat on a chair, and put on his sneakers. 

He was heading to the gym

He was wearing a T-shirt, his baseball cap, and his socks & sneakers

I can barely contain my laughter when I ask, "Rick, do you think you're forgetting something?"

He says, "No, I don't think so. I've got my keys."

Which he puts in the air and shakes them.

I suggest he look down. He does.

Now we are both laughing. 

The goofball was only wearing his underwear on the bottom half.

He said his new mantra while laughing at himself, "Hey, give me a break, I've had a stroke."

He looked ridiculous. Thank God I saw him before he left. 

Can you imagine him at the gym like that?

The Crazy Old Guy.  

In My Neck of The Woods

 A couple of things said around our house this past week that made us both laugh.

* It was said - Catch up on their sleep.

* Ketchup on their sleeves? What the hell does that mean?

That brought on some laughter.  Rick loves it when I don't have my hearing aids.  He thinks I'm funnier.

*For someone who hates people, you are so damn friendly.

I'm sure you can figure out who said that one.

* Dear Lord, you're a handful!

Yeah, well, so are my boobs, we're even (stick out tongue and walk away)

*What are you in the mood for for dinner?

Nothing really.

Good, it's exactly what I felt like making. 

Yes, Rick seems to be coming back.

For the first time since his stroke, he has been like my old Ricky for the last two weeks. Thoughtful, kind, romantic, and a pain in the ass in the most funny of ways.  

Does it take 4 yrs to get yourself back?  Is this a fluke?  

God, I hope not. I've missed this fella so damn much.  

Laughter fills our house again.

Fingers crossed for me, okay?

Cooking

Gosh, I don't enjoy cooking as some folks do. They wax poetic about it.

I cook because I like to eat. I cook because eating out is stressful.  I cook because Rick had a stroke, and his cooking is not the same.  Or he can't do it at all.

On our first time meeting, I believe I told you all that he asked for my last name. I told him, and he said, "Oh, you're Italian, so you can cook." 

I said," No, I can eat."

He said, "Well, good, we'll make a good pair."

The 2nd time I saw Rick, he had invited me to his place.  It was a Saturday afternoon.  We sat outside in his Adirondack chairs on a beautiful spring day and had a glass or two or three of wine. It was just a lovely afternoon.

He then says, "Are you getting hungry?"

"Yes, I am," I reply.

Now, I am assuming this means we'll be heading out to go eat somewhere.

But nope. 

He says, "Let's see what I can whip up."

Oh dear, was my first thought.

He made this concoction of pork chops, rice, and a veggie, which I'm not sure now if it was broccoli or not, but I think so. A casserole-type thing. He used seasonings I had never heard of at that time.

He puts this casserole in the oven, and I am thinking to myself, "Boy, if this sucks, what am I going to do?" 

I set the table like a good guest.  

We sit down to eat. 

He took a bite and said, "Not bad."

He didn't fall over instantly dead, so I thought I'd try a bite.

I took a bite and about died all right. Not because it was terrible, but because it was so. damn. good. It looked like a hot mess but oh my goodness was this ever good.

At this time in my life, I only baked. I hated cooking. I had not been diagnosed with celiac yet, just having all the pain associated with it and no one knew why.

I told him I could only make 4 things well.

1. Damn good Chili

2. Egg Rolls

3. Quiche (yes, the crust too)

4. Cream Puffs and most baked goods.

His response?  "Oh, you can't make egg rolls or cream puffs if you can't cook."

I told him cream puffs are the easiest thing to bake, period.

"What about egg rolls?" he asks.

He said, "I'll make stir fry if you make me egg rolls and cream puffs."

It's on.

We made a date for the following weekend and he brought over his wok.

He made me beef and broccoli because I told him I loved it.

And we sat down to eat.

He moaned over the egg rolls.  I loved it.

He asked how I learned to make these.  A friend showed me. 

Then dessert. He moaned again after eating 3 cream puffs. (back when he was young and could eat everything in sight and not gain weight)

Until celiac, I never cooked. Then, after my diagnosis, I began to watch the Food Network. Back when they taught you how to cook and not just games.

Rachel Ray and Emeril Lagasse taught me so much. I learned to adapt their recipes to be gluten-free. But the techniques were a big lesson for me. Learning what a rue was and how to use this fantastic thing to make cheese sauces, etc. Just substitute my flour.  

I am still not a great cook like Rick. But I am light-years away from where I was in 1987. 

Everyone always feels sorry for Rick because he eats so many gluten-free meals. Honestly, he doesn't mind. He still has his own bread, and he eats regular pasta if I make him a lasagna or stuffed shells. But overall, he eats pretty much the same as I do. He eats gf pasta and doesn't mind it. 

The other night, I made a Reuben Casserole. He was talking about this place we used to go to in Pennsylvania.  Best Reubens in the world. We both love Reubens.

So I tracked down some rye bread that was gluten-free. This casserole had a lot of moving parts. But oh my God, was it good. Rick asked me to take it away because he could not stop eating it.  It looks like a lasagna, because of the layers, but of course it's not. 

The bread is cut into 2-inch pieces for the bottom. Some of the bread is crushed to make bread crumbs for the crunchy top.  There are a few tablespoons of caraway seeds in this as well.

Later that night, as Rick was getting ready for bed, he went to brush his teeth.

I walk into the bathroom and see him touching spots in his sink. Then he begins to laugh. I mean, really laughing. I ask what is so funny.

Well, the goofball took off his glasses and began to brush his teeth before bed.

He saw black things in the sink and thought they were drain flies or something. But the second time he stomped one with his finger, he realized it was caraway seeds from brushing his teeth. 2 caraway seeds that he thought were bugs.

Now that made me laugh like crazy. 

I told him from now on to brush his teeth with his glasses on for heaven's sake.

Sports Night

The area I currently live in had an enormous soccer event. Everyone was in a tizzy to see all these famous international as well as the national players. 

On the local news, they showed all this soccer. I said to Rick that I just can't get into it. He laughed and said, "Why is it that if they're on ice, you like it. Close to the same game, one on ice and one on grass." I laughed because I had never thought of it like that.

We've been watching NHL hockey since our Carolina Hurricanes are going to be in the Stanley Cup Playoffs.  While not exactly the same, I got what he was saying. I do believe we will win the Stanley Cup to Canada's dismay.  

I have a friend who asked if I was going to see the Hurricanes play. Oh hell no. We saw what the ticket prices were, and they also mentioned them on TV. I could probably do the nosebleed sections for several hundred instead of thousands, but I have a great seat on my sofa, and I don't have to wear a bra. :-)  (There seems to be a theme to my life, isn't there?)

But when the Carolina Hurricanes are playing at the same time as my Yankees, and both are televised.  I have to go with the boys in pinstripes and no skates.

There was a semi-pro hockey team in my hometown, and before them, I didn't know a lick about hockey. I never even ice-skated. I know, I know!  I lived on a frozen great lake growing up. I used to see all the skaters on the bay. But I had difficulty rollerblading, so I knew this was not my thing. I needed all 4 skates to move forward and backward. I'm clumsy, remember.  I needed the stability of the 4 wheels to skate.

We went to hockey games all the time while growing up in my hometown. We were just a junior hockey team. We competed in the Midwest Division of the Ontario Hockey League.  Now you ask yourself, how the hell does she know this when she was never a fan of hockey before?  I met a hockey player, and we dated for a good while, and I learned fast. This young man had the thickest Canadian accent, and I used to tell him I needed closed captions under his chin sometimes because I couldn't always understand him.  The 'eh' I got. The out, about, and house were typical, but some things he said it was like a foreign language to me.  Yes, it was English, but a different English than I was used to. So he schooled me, and I him.  He learned bad words in Italian from me. Hey, I did not say I was a good influence on this gorgeous young man.  
Okay, gorgeous with his teeth in. 😁

Saturday, I don't get a baseball game televised, and the hockey games are over for now.
What's a girl to do on Saturday night?

Thrill of a Lifetime

Yesterday I had a real thrill.

Remember the grocery store where I got reprimanded for standing on a shelf to reach something?

Well, I was at the same store yesterday to get milk. 

I went down an aisle I never go down. (all pop) but it was a bit more people than I liked, and I was taking what I hoped would be a shortcut.

I see a woman struggling to get her 2-liter bottle of Pepsi up and out of the top shelf. On this shelf is a bar of sorts, so this needs to be lifted and then taken out.

Now, as a short person, I know this makes it more difficult. This young woman was in a motorized cart of sorts. She is struggling, and I heard her frustrated moan. 

I approached her and asked if I could help. 

She smiled warmly and said while looking me up and down, "Do you really think you can reach that?"

I told her I would try. 

I DID IT.

She kept thanking me. I was smiling as I walked away, all proud of myself.

I did not wish to tell her that I was as thrilled as she was that I could do it.

I assume this thrilling feeling is how you tall people feel, isn't it?

When I arrived home, I couldn't wait to tell Rick. Of course, he laughed at me.

But he came out of the womb at 6'2 he will never understand.

Hump Day

I hope you all had a nice holiday weekend if you were in the U.S.

It rained here the entire weekend.  We so need the rain because we are in a horrific drought.

But I must admit it ruined all on our to-do list and grilling. But we need the rain, so we couldn't complain.

I actually love rainy days. A solid rain all day to me is a book day and a glass of wine or coffee. Is there any better time to read?  I think not!

I read where someone said her parents told her to stop crying or she'd give her something to cry about. OMG, people went nuts. That is child abuse.

Look, my parents did this. I knew enough not to test them.  I don't think that was abuse.  It got everyone's panties in a twist.

I had a respectful fear of my parents. Mostly Dad. He followed through, so I didn't test him more than I had to. 

I fear my parents would have been turned into CPS by today's standards. I never felt abused, nor was I abused. I just knew enough to fly right and behave. I never got hit. Well, once, I'll share that in a bit.  My parents could just give me a look. Oh, that look from my mom would make me know I better straighten up, as she'd say.

They always followed through, no idle threats of taking something away and never doing it.  Maybe that's why I never really did anything really bad.

Oh, I tried a cigarette once. I hated it!! Then I saw an 8mm film of my parents and extended family just a few days later. I saw my mom, who was now dead, in every frame; she had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. (She died of cancer). I never ever thought about touching a cigarette again!

As for being hit once. I was slapped. I was being my ever-sarcastic self, and my mother did not appreciate it, and I was slapped. I was told that this mouth of mine will get my trouble. My husband loves that story because he says, "Boy, she knew, and you were only 11." 

I got grounded a lot. No phone calls. No going anywhere by my backyard was a fun one for summer. I snuck out of the house to go to a neighborhood party.  My dad drove by as I was riding my bike to the house and asked where the hell I was going since I was grounded. Oops.

A classic is getting in trouble for helping my sister. She is 3 yrs younger than me. She was always doing something she shouldn't and she always got away with it. She would call me a sissy cuz I wouldn't do things and then laugh and say, "Yeah, but you always get caught, so maybe you shouldn't."  Too true as you will see at the end.

Here is how I tried to help my sister.

I was a senior in high school. I had a job at the local pharmacy.

I was brushing my teeth to get ready to go to my job.

My father walks into the bathroom with an ounce of pot in his hand.

He shoves it into the sink as I am brushing my teeth.

I almost swallowed my toothbrush. (this is 1973-4)

I act stupid and say, What's that?

Dad said,"You tell me."  I said NOTHING.

Then he proceeded to tell me one of the little ones pulled down Pam's purse from the desk in the kitchen.

(I had new sisters of the age of 1 & 3) 

I immediately said, "Dad, that isn't Pam's. I am certain she is holding this for Paula. You know Paula is grounded, Pam told you."

Dad HATED Paula and thought she was a bad influence on Pam, so I went there, figuring he couldn't hate her anymore, and to save my sister.

Dad said okay, and I made it to work on time, but in a full-on panic for my sister.

I called the house 3 times, hoping Pam would pick up because she was sleeping when I left. 

Each time, it was my step-mom or Dad, so I'd just hang up. Thank God, no caller ID at the time.

When I got home from work, everyone was eating Sunday dinner around the table. Pam wasn't there. I assumed if she wasn't there, we got off the hook. I even asked my mom where she was, and she was with friends.

As soon as I sat down, Dad said I was grounded for 2 weeks for lying to him.

I asked when I lied. He said, "Your sister told me this was hers and you lied."  No, I didn't lie.  I honestly thought it was Paula's Dad.

Well, I watched as your sister dumped it down the toilet and she admitted it was hers. She thought she'd try it.  THAT HE BELIEVED???

He believed my sister and that it was her 1st time. But I get in trouble, and not her who had the pot?

So as you can see, even when I didn't do it, I got in trouble anyway, and my sister was correct, I always get caught, even if I didn't do it.

By the way, she loves that story!

Hatred for Trump and other news

The old-fashioned alarm clock read 5:01AM.  I know it's wrong. It's wrong by about 30 minutes. A hangover habit from my corporate days. I don't get up easily, or at least not then. I was always half an hour ahead. Somehow, in my morning fog, I'd forget that, and for some reason, that amused the hell out of my partner.  

I shuffled out to the living room and sat for a minute. Nope, can't go back to sleep, so I made a cup of coffee.  Read the AARP magazine that came in the mail, unloaded the dishwasher, and put things away, then put Rick's medications out for the breakfast round.

At 6:45 a.m., I thought I could sleep. WHY? Why not when I'm in bed? 

I made the mistake of turning on the television.  Oh yeah, I recorded the baseball game and the Stephen Colbert show.  So I watched my team lose and then watched Stephen Colbert. I only watch him and Kimmel. The whole thing pisses me off.  God, how I hate trump. I have never had hatred for anyone before. It's ugly, but so is he, damn it.

I am feeling better this morning. Stomach pain is so mild it's hardly something to talk about. My swelling is slowly going down. You can now see my knuckles when I make a fist. The other unpleasant things that happen have also slowed down, and I am so thankful for that. I think I'll be back to normal in a few days.

I vent here. I whine here. So, because I whined about being so sick, your comments made me feel all your kindness towards me and also a bit like I was being dramatic. Oh, if you go through all this, you wouldn't think so, but it's how it makes me feel. I may have a problem with accepting compliments and good wishes. Never had that until my Rick's. It's still odd to me. Anyway...Not looking for sympathy, just needed to vent and bitch, better known as blogging.  Sometimes, after I vent here, I need a cigarette, and I have never smoked. :-)

While I was in and out of the bathroom and/or napping for 30 minutes here or there, Rick was sending me memes. Oh no, he's right here in the living room and he's sending me memes. I don't want to be that couple!

I'm going to share with you what the ass my husband sent me.

These are from my sick husband to me as I lie on the sofa dying:

WARNING: These could be offensive to some.

                                       Silly man thinks HE picked ME. 🤣

Is he being sarcastic?  Hmm.....