Betterphoto Dec. submission

Slowly going to work my way back into posting here. This is a start. If you click on the big photo you can see the entire thing, and my other photos on Photobucket. Nothing too great, frankly.

better late than never

I cannot believe it has been that long since I last posted! A few weeks, yes, but not over a month. To all 6 of my readers, I apologize.

The photo class is over, and I enjoyed it. This class featured the use of the Nikon D40, which I had recently bought. It is a humdinger of a camera, although only 6 MB resolution, I find it makes great images of normal 4x6 or 8x10, and what would I do with a bigger photo? I've reached saturation with even 8x10, for framing and displaying...




The first photo is of Raven and Magpie playing in the hose, to demonstrate stop-motion. The second photo shows extremely short depth of field from a wide aperture, although (the instructor pointed out) the ladybug is not quite in perfect focus. I hate ladybugs. This one is actually dead and thus sat very still for the photo. Sometimes we get hundreds of them perched on the side of the house, then some get in, make the cats go nuts trying to catch them (lamps kicked over, papers scattered, glasses tipped over, it's a real fun scene) and then when you whack them, they really stink. I am not a big fan of any bugs, actually. There were originally 5 people in the class, but by the end, only two of us finished. It puzzles me why people would pay $200 for a class and then not do the assignments. More money than sense, I guess.

Rachel went to the beach with her friends and returned safely, sunburned and bearing lots of stuff, since it was the end of the season and everything was super cheap.

Tomorrow someone comes to give us an estimate on re-doing the bathroom. I figure it will be high, but we will have something to compare to while we look at other places. Rachel, who never wants things to change, was demanding Why now? I resisted the impulse to say "because we are thinking of selling the house" which would have sent her into a total tailspin, aren't I mean? Really, though, this place is 30 years old and it really shows in the bathrooms.

My insomnia continues to be a problem, but right now I'm feeling very sleepy, so off to dreamland.

Bumper sticker for the day: If ignorance is bliss, why aren't more people happy?

Dunno...

I've been thinking off and on all day about what I could post here today, but I finally realized that for now, at least, the well is dry. So..

Today's bumper sticker: "Rock is Dead! Let's hear it for paper and scissors!"

Waiting

I think one third of my life has been spent on waiting. I'm still not good at it! You know what I mean; it's not like a kid waiting for Christmas, it's more like waiting at the dentist. We wait in line at the store and at the bank, we wait for phone calls and for busy lines to be free. We wait for the report from our doctors, and we wait at the hospital when they want more tests. We wait without water for the plumber to come, and without electricity until the check clears. Wait, wait, wait.

When I worked, I also waited for projects to get done, and people to cool down. I waited to pull into the parking space, and at the red lights to go home. I waited to be picked up from work, and I waited for the kids to get in the car so we could leave the daycare.

I could go on and on, but you're waiting for the 30 seconds to count down, aren't you?

John Milton: "They also serve, who only stand and wait."

Bumper sticker for today : "I brake suddenly for tailgaters."

Sleepy time

My daughter is going to Virginia beach for her vacation next week, and I don't want her to go. Yes, I know she's 29; that she is going with 3 other girlfriends; that she drove all the way to Rehoboth Beach with me a couple of years ago and did fine; that she is a careful driver. But still, drivers are such maniacs on the road anymore, you need eyes in the back of your head to watch out for them. And like all moms, I worry about strangers at the hotel, etc. etc. I mainly worry late at night in a pattern that all mothers are familiar with, where I am very sleepy but my brain won't SHUT UP. I woke up at 5:30 this morning, which is a great improvement over the usual 4 am awakening. I have been sleeping pill free for several weeks, hurrah for me. But this trip next week will probably shoot all of that down, and it will be Ambien until she gets home.

I got three new art prints yesterday from All Posters, to replace four nice prints of the 4 seasons (not the singers; spring summer, etc.) which have been hanging for 35 years, here and in CA. It is hard to remember a time when they were not up, but I am tired of them and the new ones look great. See photos below from the All Posters web site.





Bumper sticker for today: Untie Dyslexic Church of Dog (with a picture of a running dog trailing a leash).

Pretty Lame

It took two days and five people, but we got the lumber out, all the branches gathered and chipped up, the chips spread under the shelter roof, and sufficiently healed ourselves so we can bend over again. NEVER again.

I enrolled in another online photo workshop, this one for the Nikon D40 camera, which I bought not long ago. The manual for it is almost useless, explaining what a button or dial is for (like " this button switch between AE-S and AE-F") which means WTF? It starts in October, and I will post photos from the classes here. Aren't you thrilled?

We have too many cats. Between the dogs and the cats, we are regular clients at the vets, and honor I could do without. Just keeping up with the food and litter requirements is a major task. And we don't have enough laps to go around, so the cats play musical laps. (This only makes sense if you know what musical chairs is.)

One story from childhood you might enjoy. Or not. Anyway, I went to a private school for first grade, because I was only 4 when I started. From second through to high school I was the youngest in my class, and certainly one of the most ignorant when it came to dirty jokes and such.
For example:

A young man goes into a drug store to buy condoms. The pharmacist says the condoms come in packs of 3, 9 or 12 and asks which the young man wants. "Well," he said, "I've been seeing this girl for a while and she's really hot. I want the condoms because I think tonight's "the" night. We're having dinner with her parents, and then we're going out. And I've got a feeling I'm gonna get lucky after that. Once she's had me, she'll want me all the time, so you'd better give me the 12 pack." The young man makes his purchase and leaves.

Later that evening, he sits down to dinner with his girlfriend and her parents. He asks if he might give the blessing, and they agree. He begins the prayer, but continues praying for several minutes. The girl leans over and says, "You never told me that you were such a religious person."

He leans over to her and says, "You never told me that your father is a pharmacist."

I had a vague idea about "getting lucky" but what were condoms? So ignorant. Not like today when any 8 year old can tell jokes (other than knock knock jokes).

"Two zebras are talking and one asks the other, "Am I black with white
stripes or white with black stripes?" The other replies, "Well I don't
know. You should pray to God about that and ask him." So that night he did
and God replied, "You are what you are." The next day he said to the other
zebra, "I still don't understand what I am because God just said, You are
what you are." The second zebra responds, "You must be white with black
stripes or else God would have said, Yo is what yo is."

Or maybe not. Most kids' jokes have something about poop in them.

Onwards, ever onwards. Pictures, next time, I promise.

Bumper sticker: "Boldly going nowhere."

Lumberjacks

I can scarcely believe the mess that is our front yard. I have posted photos at the bottom, but they don't show the overwhelming mess that is a result of removal of about 8 black locust trees. The trees are essentially scrub-- they have been here the 30 years we have owned the place, and, like poor Yorick*, the years have not been kind to them. One of the problems is where they are, which is adjacent to the power lines as they bend around our corner. We asked the power company to drop them, but since they weren't completely dead, they said no (although they are perfectly willing to take down three maple trees that are maybe twice as far away from the lines, and beautiful, too), so we paid two of their moonlighting crew to take them down. To save money, we agreed that all they needed to do was drop them -- not clean up the branches, trunks, and so forth. It seemed like a good idea then.

But when the branches are 80 feet or so in the air, just the tip top part, it doesn't look like much of a job. But once on the ground, the pile of branches, which still must be cut off at the trunk, and then into manageable pieces, is very daunting. We three worked on it Sunday and got, maybe, a third of it done. All we are doing is piling the branches up; on Friday we rent a chipper and devour the branches, gulp. Meanwhile our neighbor is taking the tree trunks, which he cuts for firewood, needing a lot for his wood-burning furnace. That is an enormous help, and of course he is glad to get locust, a very hard wood that is slow burning. But we have been having a run of poor luck this week, when we planned on getting as a lot done in the evening. First N had an earache, which the doctor diagnoses as a sinus infection. Then C comes down with a virus which keeps him close to the bathroom. Yesterday I chipped a tooth, leaving me with a jagged spike that I constantly probe with my tongue, you know, the way everyone does, (like picking at a scab), so it's me to the dentist today. We now plan to keep the chipper over the weekend so we can chop and chip at the same time, hopefully. The last time we did this kind of heavy physical stuff was 20 years ago, putting in fence, and we can definitely feel the difference. If we had realized how much effort we would have to do, we would have paid anything to get it done for us. The very thought of it all makes me want to go back to bed and pull the covers over my head. I guess like poor Yorick* the years have not been kind to us either.

Meanwhile, the Newf, Maggie, is still semi-paralyzed in the rear end, to the puzzlement of the vet and us. We are assuming she damaged nerves in her right rear leg, or spine, in her fall, and pinched a nerve which is slow to heal. We keep her on a maintenance dose of pain killers, which seems to help a lot. We see her running around now, with a strange little crow hop in her hind legs, and then she will abruptly sit down and pull herself along with her front paws for a few feet, or just sit there, then get back up. Weird, and disturbing. It's hard to see progress one day at a time. Does this sound familiar to any dog lovers out there? Please don't suggest a trolley for her - as I said before, she weighs around 130 ponds. She would chew it to pieces in moments, too. After all, she eats garden hoses left outside like they were tasty -- like licorice, maybe.

So off to start another day.







Today's bumper sticker: "Caution: I swerve to hit cars at random"





* Yorick -- Shakespeare? Hamlet? Never mind.

Here I go again...

Everytime I think I am on the track to regular posting on this, something rises up and smacks me and I am weeks getting it all together again. No picture this week. I can't figure out how to download the photosfrom the Nikon to this pc computer, where the typing is easier because it is a desktop, although the Macbook never even blinked, it started iPhoto and click, there they were. I usually download to both computers, otherwise the thumb drive gets a workout and I get annoyed that even being on the same WiFi network, I can't figure out how to get them to communicate. This originally arose from wanting to share the printer on the desktop, but Apple says the computer is not Mac compatible. When I printed out a picture on the Mac recently, I just carried the Mac in here, plugged the USB cable into the Mac and bingo! I had a printer for the Mac. Would that everything were so simple.

The reason I haven't been posting, if you care, and why should you? is that I have been involved on a near-daily basis with trying to get the mats out of Raven's sheep-wooly coat so the undercoat won't cause heat prostration. No wonder she is immune to the cold! Finally we resolved that she will become a Lab on the bottom half and a Newf on the top half of her body, and I broke out the Oster A-5 clippers. These are good clippers, I use them on the horses to trim legs, chins, ears and so on, and I used a new blade. But even the clippers couldn't cope with that mess. We had just let it go on too long without combing her out. So I finally took a deep breath and ordered an Oster Clipmaster, which is one bad boy clipper. It's about a foot long, fan cooled, and is made for the "professional" and can and is used to shear sheep. Haven't tried it yet because it is so damn hot (94 yesterday) we brought the dogs inside where they can lay on the cool tile floor in the kitchen until the heat abates, usually around dusk, when they go to the barn for the night. And damned if I clip in the kitchen. Just the stuff we got off her neck and hindquarters filled a paper grocery bag, and it felt like cashmere. If only it had smelled better. Any way, that was when we realized she had a UTI, so off to the vet to lay out another $200. Antibiotics for two weeks, three giant horse pills, because she weighs 127 lbs. We hide them in hot dogs. That works. Mostly.




Today's bumper sticker: "National Sarcasm Society". And then, in smaller print, "Like we need your help."

Yeah, I know, a headstone isn't the most cheerful of images to start a post. But this one is a personal highlight in that we finally found it.

It goes like this: This is a photo of the headstone for my greatgrandfather and greatgrandmother. When they died, they were buried here, the family plot, although it was originally that of Jonathan Young. Anyway, that piece of the old place still belongs to the family, and most of the family call it Aunt May's place, who was my great aunt. Me, with my far greater knowledge of family history (oooh, yeaah) call it the Young place, where Aunt May ended up. Her grandson, my second cousin, John, ended up with the key to the gate at the foot of the road (if you can call it a road. To me it looks like a cattle path) and although we asked nicely (he lives in our town), he was oddly reluctant to part with the key. We also told him that Aunt Nina wanted to see the cemetary, as she had never been there, it takes 4-wheel drive to get there, that and a lot of swearing. I pointed out that Aunt Nina is in her 80s and the sooner done the better, but he said "HE would take her", which I knew would never happen. Still no go, and finally it dawned on us that this guy is a prison guard at the local prison, and I think the cop mentality prohibits them from handing over the key to anything. We appealed to his mother, who pointed out we were hardly going to carry off a family relic, and he reluctantly handed it over. His whole rationale was this lame story about "kids" tearing up the road with 4 wheelers, etc., which had to sound lame even to him. When he gave it to N, he had to promise to not copy the key. Anyway, we went to the home of our uncle, who likewise wanted to go, and when he heard about the key, he said he wanted to take a look at it, and with our tacit permission, he disappeared for 20 minutes or so, then returned with the key. Such a farango for access to a graveyard in the middle of nowhere! ANyway, I photoed all the stones, and made a verbal tape of the headstones, and my only regret is that at that time we didn't have a GPS to take readings of the spot.

In the end, I turned over the list of grave readings to the local and state archives, and if I want to, I can go again for the coordinates.

Oh yeah, when N returned the key to John, John actually asked if N had copied the key, to which N answered, quite truthfully, no. And Aunt Nina was tickled pink, and she died two years later and is buried next to my parents.

In a better graveyard.

Bumper sticker: "Protect the Earth. We don't have a spare."

Time Marches On

Maggie is doing much better, not 100% yet, but certainly 95%. She has been spoiled by all the attention, and now, if she doesn't want to go into the barn or the stall, she just flops down and gives you this soulful look. We are still giving her pain meds, as she is still favoring that right hip, but less so as she now runs and plays with Raven, runs to us, etc. The only real thing I've noticed is that she won't climb the stairs to the upper porch, but Raven doesn't like to do so much either, what with her awful hip dysplasia. They are both getting TriFlex which seems to help them both in joint flexibility. If they continue to stay off the upper porch, maybe I can risk putting the new cushions out (whoo hoo).

I got a new camera today! It is a Nikon D40, my first DSLR. I have a Sony point and shoot digital camera, but I have always preferred the controls of f-stop, aperture, and speed, and it is hard to work around a fully automatic camera and still come up with the photos I want to make. So hopefully more photos here, henceforth.

I am continuing to lose weight, and hopefully my cholesterol/triglycerides are going down as well. I really miss eating breads, so I indulge some of the time (dfffffffffr =cat paw on keyboard) with a sandwich or hot dog bun. I still have plenty of weight to shed, and then the life-long struggle to keep the weight off. Inside, in my own mind, I'm still the size and shape I was in high school, mirrors not withstanding. But when I look in the mirror, I see my mother. Only 5 inches taller. My cousin, whose mother was my mom's twin sister, looks like my mother too, more than her own mother, who was very frail. I am still fighting the passing of time, with regular appts. for hair color and cut, and trips to the dermatologist (thank all the gods that I stayed out of the sun, even during all those years in Miami), and to the manicurist. I won't wear old lady clothes (polyester brightly printed blouses, elastic waisted pastel pants) but pretty much stick with jeans and a t-shirt, or designer silk blouse, vest, suede blazer, etc. for more formal wear. When I worked, no one cared what we lab rats wore as long as we wore a white lab coat over it. It was a big day when I threw out all my lab coats, sort of like the day we burned the mortgage.

My daughter wrecked her car, and got it back last week, after having to drive a rental for a week. They gave her a Chrysler PT Cruiser. What a piece of junk! Every time she got out of the car a panel for the seat fell out; the thing had the get up and go of a sewing machine, and handled like a farm tractor. It wasn't cleaned either, stank of cigarette smoke (despite being told all their cars were smoke free -- maybe they meant smoker free?) and she found, among the trash in the door pocket, a set of keys on a caribiner. I once found a Mont Blanc meister*** fountain pen in a rental, under the seat, so I told her to check, you never know what will turn up. Anyway, she is way more careful driving now, so her insurance rates don't go up.

This is a pretty lame post, with no social redeeming value, but I am determined to do one post a week, minimum. I have found many of the blogs that were written regularly have either disappeared altogether, or go for months without a post, much as mine did. I understand how something new (hobby or whatever) sort of just fizzles out after a while, like I did with golf, mainly because I suck badly at it (12 strokes for 2 hits -- I CAN'T EVEN HIT THE DAMN BALL!) But writing is something I still enjoy, and if it sounds too banal for you readers, just pass on by. You won't hurt my feelings (much, sniff).


My last birthday.

Bumper sticker for the day: As long as you're on the phone, call your mother!!

Low on the Fourth

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One of our dogs, Maggie, the 135 lb. Newfoundland, has damaged her hips/spine/something. On Saturday, she was dead lame -- paralyzed in her rear legs. We manhandled her into the car and took her to the vet. They X-rayed her entire spine and bowel (because she wouldn't eat either) did a full blood workup, and checked the movement and sensation in her limbs, for soreness in her belly, the works. $538 later we knew nothing more than when we walked (staggered) in the door, except having ruled out -- what? We took her home with pain meds and stomach soother, and gradually she has gotten better. Still a little stumbley, but better. She has also formed a deep and abiding love for homemade boneless chicken, which we will soon have to eliminate and get her back on the old dog food, poor thing.

I couldn't help but remember last July when we lost our mare Blondie, who also started out lame and got worse. Maggie is even being kept in the same stall, so she and Raven won't get to roughhousing. It is an eerie coincidence, I hope.

I bought a set of cordless phones on ebay, and after 12 years of buying/selling there, I think I have been stiffed for the first time. Paypal is looking into it, and I have my fingers crossed, because I would rather have the phones than go through the pain of another search, trying to locate the top model that Consumer Report recommends. Maybe they will come today (ho ho).

So below are the photos of my cupboard of Feista ware, and a comparison the Pfaltzgraff Wydham pattern I used to use. Quite a difference. People here in WV are nuts about Fiesta ware, I guess because it is WV made, by the Homer Laughlin Co. It is really durable, and several of the local restaurants use it as well. I know it has been whacked a good bit by us, not quite used to the weight of the pieces.






Bumper Sticker for today: "Everything I say can be fully substantiated by my own opinion"

Just call me Stumbles Into Open Doors

Wednesday was a bummer. I went to an evaluation for LASIK surgery and did not qualify -- cataracts. He recommended instead having lens replacement BUT my cataracts are "not that bad yet" so the Insurance will not Pay. So I guess I will wait and see just how poorly my vision will be in another year. Damn.

Sold another book on Abebooks. Maybe some day I will break even there, but for now I am slowly whitling away on all our books. Many many more still to go on the inventory. You can click on Abebooks logo over there ----> if you want to browse them.

Tuesday we drove down to the Fiesta Outlet store in Flatwoods and picked up a few new pieces. I would try to find them on eBay, but the dishes are such heavy stoneware that it costs a fortune to ship them, AND they are mostly "retired colors" and I bought 7 different contemporary colors (Scarlet, tangerine, sunflower, peacock, ivory, shamrock, and cobalt blue, if you are interested, and why should you be?) One of these days we will make it to Newell, WV, where Fiesta is made, just for a look.

The other china we had was Pfaltzgraff, which Fiesta wins over just in spelling, don't you think? All 300 pieces are in storage, while I figure out what to do with them. Now if the kids would just move out...
Will post a pic of the Fiesta brightening up my cupboard soon.

I figured out why most of my house plants are/have croaked. Brown scale, probably brought in on a small cactus ages ago. Slowly winning the war on them, at least for a few of the rarer plants. All a colossal pain to do, wiping down every leaf and stem with alcohol and then spraying multiple times with malathion. Maybe I'll show you a photo of the dastardly invader.

Bumper sticker: "Honk if you think I'm a great driver". The silence has been phenomenal.

Another Day

It feels wonderful to lie (lay? Whatever) in bed and listen to the Sibs getting ready to go to work. Sort of a guilty pleasure, since as far as I can tell, they both have crappy jobs. Son works outside with a surveying group at the big power station construction; in the winter he freezes to death, even with layers and layers; in the summer he fries, and even sunblock can't prevent that farmer's tan, though using it gets him mocked by the big tough construction guys. But have they ever seen skin cancer? I think not.

Daughter works in medical records at the clinic of the university, but the handwriting is on the wall-- they just switched to all-computer patient records, and as soon as they complete the scanning of the past records (they are one-third done) how many med record employees will still be employed? One per shift is my guess. Instead of 5 on days and one for evening.

But they are big kids now, and I feel no compulsion to play "Mom" on this. One of my therapists, way back in time, enquired about the dynamics of having grown kids at home, and I said that we would, of course, help out if asked, but the management of their lives is in their hands for the most part (other than helping out with cleaning up, helping at the barn, etc.). The therapist shook his head and said something to the effect that your kids are your kids for forever (duh) and you will always act the parent with them (which is BS, or at least an attitude from the last generation). What would be the point of raising kids to think and act responsibly, if you the parent are the fall back, and thus all of life's errors can be laid at your doorstep? I changed therapists soon after, even though I liked that one, there were too many things we didn't see eye-to-eye about.

I remember that therapist said that our family acted more like roommates, that when we get home we all scatter to different rooms to pursue our own interests, rather than, I dunno, sitting down to play Parchesi together? But I have read several articles that stated that our behavior is standard for today's families; certainly having the children fail to "leave the nest" is more common than ever before. So there. Pffftttt.

What do you think? Do all your grown children fly the coop as soon as they can (I did, at 17)?

And this parting wisdom:

"Sex on television can't hurt you unless you fall off."

Insomnia

Did you ever get so tired that sleep eluded you even when you desperately need it? Last night, from midnight to about 3 am, we had a rip roaring thunderstorm, and I lay there trying not to think about all those dying or dead trees on the edge of our property that need to be cut down, preferably without removal of power lines. The power company has agreed to do it, time not specified. And there is one tree, no threat to power lines, that is directly behind the house, shading the deck and Son's bedroom and part of the pool, which as far as I can tell, will need to be cut and airlifted out, like they do on the TV show. And I'll bet it will be expensive too.

Mood has been fine on Monday-Tuesday and suddenly on Wednesday I didn't even want to get out of bed. My Dr. appt went fine, much praise for the 20 pound loss in 4 months, hurrah...Can I have a danish pastry now? 40 pounds to go...

I'm still selling books on Abebooks, you should see the icon over there on the right, and it will take you to MY listing and not the 50 million people who have way better books than me, describe them in ruinous detail ( do you know what a remainered book is? How do you tell? I got an inflammatory email for failing to disclose that on a book, can't please them all.)

I have a million books to enter still , and my enthusiasm is slip slip slipping away (Vince Gill).

On Sunday, the dogs found some vile stinky dead thing in the pasture. It had been quickly eaten (Ewwww) but still the aroma lingered on. No kissies from THEM for a while. I spent some time (it felt like days) to clean the worst of the tack room, although it still supports paw prints 6 feet up the door. Darling Maggie found out how to open the door from inside the tack room (which is off-limits in the first place) and gallop off into the distance, BYE.....

The new solid gold bagged 50 pound bales of wood shavings are all stacked and tarped over. 120 bales should last a long time, and at $720 I certainly hope they will.

All I'm getting from my brain is snoring sounds, so I guess I'm done for the night. I leave you with this thought:

"186,000 miles/sec: Not just a good idea, it's the LAW."

Oh dear

My visitor counter seems to have gone belly up. If this is temporary I can wait it out (fingers crossed), but if not, can anyone recommend a new one? This one was amazingcounters.com.

Back later.

Red

Update: New counter installed with approximately the right number to start.

Errr....Hello there!

I never intended to leave updating my blog for so long.

I recently returned from Florida where I got some serious visiting done with my best friend, who lives near Ft. Myers. I was there a week, and it was very relaxing-- a little shopping, a couple of movies, an overnight trip to Key West via jet boat from Ft. Myers, and lots of gab. It wasn't as cool as my visit last year (in February), but actually the part of me that wore out first was my feet. Note to self: next trip to Key West spring for one of the electric golf carts.

It was packing for the trip that made me take a close look at my night wear and my (ahem) undergarments. When did they get so tired and stretched out? SURELY it can't be because my basic b'day suit has likewise stretched a wee bit over the years! Impossible!

Recently I found an outfit from 1975, pants and a jacket. My daughter tried it on, and it fit fine. She wears a 14 or even a 12, but the suit was a 16 back in the day. So "size inflation" has indeed occurred, where the sizes that were 16 now have "14" hanging on them, to make the consumer feel better. If you have, say, always worn a 14, you have in fact gained one size, or 15-20 pounds over the years. There now, isn't that a great brightener for the day?

What else is new? My bathroom is haunted by a cat ghost. Last night I heard unmistakable sounds of a cat playing with a certain toy, at 4:30 this morning. I was convinced one of the other cats had been shut inside, because I only let one cat sleep with me (don't ask why only one or why not zero, it somehow seemed like a good idea at the time). This one cat was sleeping beside me when the toy-playing sounds came from the bathroom, and she reacted to it also. I looked everywhere a cat would hide, even lay on the floor and checked with a flashlight. Nothing there. Then I went out of the bedroom, closing the door, and counted cats upstairs. All present and accounted for. So what did I hear? My family thinks I was dreaming, but I was awake enough to stub my toe on the cedar chest. And the noise didn't stop as I walked toward the bathroom until I turned on the lights. Weird.

Next weekend, on June 6th, we celebrate our 39th anniversary. I think that is the neon anniversary, so we will be checking out the local marquees, and if it says "congratulations Redhead and N" we will eat there. Otherwise, it will be KFC, I suspect. I looked at our wedding album (and my parents' copy and N's parents copy) and all I can think is how young we all looked. When did they start letting 6th graders marry?

This brief post will have to do for now. Oh yeah, and this one photo taken at Sanibel, I think....


At least we don't have a pier growing out of the tops of our heads!

Fingers crossed

Tomorrow I go in for the Cardiolite screening. I've had one before, that was abnormal. This one is to decide if a heart catheterization is needed. Keep those fingers crossed!

Not too good, thanks

I'm going through a bad patch right now and blogging has slipped WAY down the list of things I want to do. The weather is lousy here, maybe that's part of my doldrums. I have yet another new drug, and the side effects are abysmal. Yes, I'm happy for the Obama success, and the departure of that slimy jerk who sold our country out to his oil buddies. But overall, the only thing I want to do is sleep. R helped me clean up the LR and the DR, bless her heart, so there is at least one place in the house that is not total chaos. But what I really need is another room, with HUGGGEEE closets, to stash all my stuff in. But that would take work, so never mind. Did I mention the weather? So posts here will be sporadic. Let's see, my birthday is next week, (I'll be 99, I think) and N proposed buying me a Blackberry, as my Palm Lifedrive is glitching pretty regularly, right now the Wi Fi connecting is broken. Instead I got another, refurbished Lifedrive. I've had Palms right along -- this is my 4th-- and the Blackberry doesn't really function as a personal organizer, but like an enormously complicated phone with a few other apps thrown in. IMHO.

Back to bed, maybe I can sleep a little more before everyone gets up. Sorry for the blah post.