Monday, November 29, 2004

Turkey day is done (burp)

Well what do you know, someone actually read my posts! I'll have to read the information on how to increase visibility of this blog, but meanwhile, hello to all those getting here via the redheaded blog ring (I guess it really does work!) . My hair color, by the way, is not just a matter of random choice, but for years (decades) I colored my strawberry blonde hair to golden blonde, only realizing as I got older that it was a hard color to carry off for middle age and gray coverage. The red covers gray better, matches my eyebrow and lash color, and suits my paleface to rosy skin color, which has never tanned and only burned (as many redheads know) and green eyes. Both my kids have ash blonde hair and gray eyes, oddly enough. My 23 year old daughter is already going grey.

Thanksgiving day was accomplished with a minimum of fuss and a maximum amount of food. I haven't seen the shelves of my refrigerator in over a week, but the only leftovers now are of Tums. For Christmas dinner we will break with tradition and have steak, baked potato and tossed salad, period. No leftovers. If this weird warm weather continues we can even grill the things outside. I abstained from the day-after-Thanksgiving mad shopping frenzy, as I am planning to utilize catalogs and online shopping almost exclusively this year. I did go to an earlier "preferred customer" shopping on a Sunday night, and boy was I sorry.. I didn't realize there were so many thousands of preferred shoppers for one tiny town, and I got, you should forgive the pun, malled. I don't plan to repeat the experience. Years ago we used to drive to the megalopolis 90 miles to our north at this time of year, but I have developed (sigh) a fear of city traffic -- the result of too many years driving on two lane narrow twisty mountain roads, and not enough on 12 lane superhighways, where you can see the exit you need, but can't possibly reach it in time. Plus, I drive a Miata, so I am automatically regarded as grill fodder for 75% of the other cards on the road. And to make it all the worse, I have the directional sense of a gerbil, and have been known to get lost in my own driveway, truly a unique attribute.
So I let my fingers do the walking through the web pages, and get some pretty neat stuff too.

I have cats, or rather they have me. There are five of the blighters in the house, lording it over the mere bipeds, who are useful only at litter box and feeding time. They range from a stately elegant white cat who weighs enough to tip the coffee table up on one end when he jumps on it, to a small agile grey tom who thinks his primary role in life is dish polisher, not his, yours. I hasten to explain that I DO NOT encourage this behavior, but it is amusing to see what, if anything, he WON'T eat, like chili peppers and raw cabbage. Nearly everything else is acceptable, even if he has to steal it to get a sample, with favorites including cantaloupe, jelly beans, green beans, bread, and corn on the cob. Pizza crusts. Cheese. Spagetti, with or without sauce. He has, by the way, terrible breath. Where he developed his eclectic appetite I have no idea, we first realized it when he chased the 125 lb dog away from her dinner dish until he'd eaten his fill of dog food and table scraps.

I work as a professional nag at a large university, telling other people what to do so they know which rules to ignore with impunity. For this I have a large office, all the latest in computers, palm pilots, scanners, etc., and I wander from room to room pointing out safety infractions, writing them down, sending reports, follow up visits that are also ignored, and in general make a total nuisance of myself, a task for which I trained some 30 years to do. I love my job, it makes me feel like a prophet, warning of dire consequences that never occur, although sometimes I feel like I'd like to set a fire or two just to sharpen everybody up a bit. Maybe firemen get like that too? All I know is, the important thing is to Write Down What You Say so you can cover your own a** if there is ever a problem. Hence the need for all the computers.

And speaking of nagging, I have a husband too, whom I never nag, since after 34 years of marriage I have exhausted all possible topics of nagsomeness, and when I found I was starting to repeat myself over and over, I quit. We talk less now, but it's way more amicable. Kids are the same way, they tune out everything that doesn't involve threats of grievous bodily harm, and even those lose their punch after a while. Money still talks.

As mentioned earlier, both parents and my one sister are all dead, I put flowers on their graves regularly, I don't know why, exactly. Guilt? Trying to impress (who?) with my devotion? Do you know, there are people in this world who steal flower arrangements off grave sites? Is that not low? Do you suppose they do it regularly, explain to visitors the best graveyards to visit, justify it by saying "they're dead anyway, what's the difference?" I wonder. This is a strange old world.

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