Whoa! Back up the bus!

After many years of wanting to bring my little publishing company to life, this is FINALLY the year.  I've joyously been working for weeks now getting a catalog ready to send to folks who have shown an interest in what I'm doing.

My muse and I have our creative juices at a fever pitch much to Frankie's dismay, even though she will be the chief benefactor should my little business start to make a little cash...talk about cutting off you nose to spite your face.

Anyway, it seems everyday I am hit with a new idea for a card, and I spent the weekend looking for paper doilies and confetti's on line in order to work on one such new idea.  As I came across web-sites with things of interest I made 'pretend' orders, and if what I wanted was in my price range I actually bought what was on my 'pretend' order.

Whoa!  Back up the bus!  I finally went to a very large and well known sight (actually believing it was going to be the cheapest) and accumulated quite a large pretend list and that eventually lead me to press 'See Your Cart' and I began to scroll down...the order was almost a hundred bucks...scrolling down a little further I saw the postage and handling amount...IT was OVER a hundred bucks.

I'm sure you can see where this is going.  Delete, delete, delete.  Are you kidding me?  How the heck is a person on a limited income supposed to survive with those kinds of prices?  The stuff I wanted did not weigh twenty pounds, and they wanted to charge me a hundred bucks, seriously, is the Post Office in THAT much trouble.  Booo, hisss Post office.  I'll go elsewhere for my purchases, thank you very much.

It took me all weekend, but I managed to purchase everything I want and need for my new idea at other web-sites for much less money; I'm a very happy camper and I'm just not sure I will continue to purchase things at that well know, very large site any more.

Happy comparison shopping everybody.

Potato

Once upon a time, there lived on the bottom shelf of my supply cupboard in the morning room, a potato named Penelope.  She live in hope week after week I would notice she was becoming older, frail, and beginning to wrinkle...much like the writer of this little story.

After living in dark conditions for so long, tiny white eyes began to appear along her weathered skin, and at last she began to smell...and not a pleasant one either.  So it was, that I noticed not Penelope, but the odor she had begun to emit.  It took a while for me to discover where the smell was coming from, and finally did one morning when I had to retrieve napkins from the cupboard.  And, there, bedraggled and tired, I saw poor Penelope, I hate to be so morbid, but I have to say, she was in the throes of breathing her last.

I scooped her up, and contemplated tossing her into the trash, when I saw the tiny specks of life, those eyes, desperately showing me how much Penelope wanted to survive.

It was winter, I couldn't plant her outside, she would either freeze to death, or be eaten by all the insects still struggling to survive themselves.

What could I do to help Penelope?

I suddenly remembered the box of potting soil out in the garage, so I gingerly, and at arms length, carried her to the garage and plopped her into the box of soil.  Then, I turned, walked away, and, promptly forgot all about her.

Now we all know that stories that start with "Once upon a time..." have to have a happy ending.  You ready?

Yesterday I was out in the garage, and saw that one of the curtains I had hung to hide garage mess, including my box of potting soil was bulging out.  What in the world could be causing that, and why had I not noticed it before?  I pull back the curtain...and there was Penelope, not only had she survived the winter, but was 'looking good'.  She had rooted, was firmly anchored into the soil, and had begun to put out, strong, healthy vines, with leaves beginning to open in a lush, chartreuse green.  

I considered moving her outside into the garden, but decided she knew what was best for her, so I simply threw back the curtain so she could get the daylight that comes through the garage door windows.  I feel very badly I had so neglected Penelope, and even forgotten where I had left her.  Shame on me.  How lovely she had not held a grudge, and is now trying to offer me a gift by growing in such an unbecoming place.  I have no doubt if I now pay attention to her, she will repay me by supplying me with a few children of her own.

Where upon, I will be faced with an even more difficult dilemma, should I eat her children, or replant them to allow another generation to grow.  I do believe I just might......

The end.

Frankie's in love

I know this is crazy, but I have to share.  My dear, dear, dear Frankie is in love.  She's been mooning around the house since Monday night...I've never seen her like this, it's kind of scary.  Whereas I have a thing for firemen, she has a thing for the the three guys on the BBC America show "TopGear".  I've spoken about these Blokes before, with their 'boots', 'bonnets', 'tarmacs' and 'hammerheads' we are both great fans.

However, after Monday nights TopGear  there is a new show called "Crash Course" in which Richard Hammond, of TopGear, had come to America to learn how to use all manner of huge equipment.  The gist of the show is to see if he can conquer a company's equipment in three days and pass a test to be qualified to operate said equipment.

At some point in filming for this series Richard was in Oregon.

OMG, Frankie went ballistic...she did not know he was here...and was reeeally put out that I had not told her.  Shoot, I didn't know myself.  She ranted, she raved...she carried on in a manner unbecoming a woman of her gentile age, (you would have thought he was Frank Sinatra for heaven sake).  

Anyway, he was here to learn how to operate logger's machinery.  I don't recall the name of the company he was with,  however, the owner and employees of this company were having a wonderful time showing Richard the ropes.  Literally!  His first job was to climb fifty feet into a fir tree, hook a rope through a pulley, and descend the tree.  This was to show how they are able to direct a tree into a good 'fall' position.  After that he, with great glee, he was ready to tackle the mechanical equipment.

I have to admit, he tried hard, and did okay...but not terrific.  Frankie and I gave him a B+ for his great effort.  Come the third day it was obvious Richard was very nervous about passing the test and things did not go well.

With fifteen minutes of 'test' and about twenty minutes of show left, I glance over at Frankie.  I've never seen her like this...it was kind of scary...her pupils were dilated, she had torn her tissue to shreds, and she was at the edge of her seat.  I knew I dare not interrupt her concentration.  I thought she might have a heart attack.
When the test was over she sank back into her chair exhausted.

She looked at me with great relief and announced (I swear I saw a tear in her eye) she was going to bed.

Frankie:  "I can't take it...when those trees fell on the cab of that machine...I thought that dear, sweet, man was going to die."
Me:  "Frankie, you know they would never show anything like that, so you have to remember they will do everything they can to keep him safe."
Frankie:  (Face getting flushed)  "I don't care...that really scared me, he's so adorable, funny, cute, and, and...I love his accent....she starts moving down the hall.
Me:  "Frankie, ( I call after her) I do believe you love more than his accent.  I believe you love HIM.
Frankie:  SHUT UP!

And so the week has gone.  Frankie all loopy, me enjoying the teen-ie-bopper phase of her crush.  I'm tolerating her 'Richard did this, and Richard does that' conversations.  Cause, I remember my first crush, too.

FYI, mine was Jimmy Dean.

Surprise!

Last evening I wrote about the remodeling going on at Freddy's, and mentioned some of the items I bought.  I did forget to mention one in particular.  Just an oversight, I promise.

Everyone I know, and everyone who has seen me, or even pictures of me have seen that I went natural...(No...not THAT natural...I'm not running around nude, and singing The Age of Aquarius).  I'm talking about my hair, you silly gooses.

I thought 'looking my age' would make me mature, give me style, a certain grace...a look that would make folks flock to me so I could expound words of wonderful wisdom

Baaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaa.  Teeeeeeeee, Heeeeeee, Snicker, snicker, snicker.  ROFLMAO!

Whew.  Back to my hair.  I gave myself a perm, thinking that would help my new look, but that caused my hair to fall out in bunches (mostly because my blow dryer has two settings---I'm never going to dry your stupid hair, and I'm going to cook your brains out).  It was the cooking the brains out that burned the hair clean off at the scalp.

At the time of this writing, I'm pleased to report the bald spots are filling in, the perm is gone, my hair is short, BUT it is still grey, a horrible, ugly, please don't make me look at it again grey.  I tried new shampoos, even special high-light your grey shampoos all to no avail.  I just have ugly grey hair.  I tried to like it, honest, I really, really tried, I just can't do it no mores.  I'm done.

So, yesterday....please note....proper labeling here...I bought L'Oreal LB02 Superior Preference les Blondissimes.  Good stuff.  My check-out girl said she was glad I came through her aisle, because I reminded her she needed to buy some hair coloring, too.  I told her my tale of trying to like my grey hair, and she said as long as she could get her arms and hands up to the top of her head she would never let her grey hair show.

I have to agree.

So, come this weekend I'm going back to blond, baby, back to blond.  Goodbye, age enhancing, bringing me down, makin' me feel bad grey.

Wow, I'm already feeling ten years younger.

Remodeling

The boss gave me the day off today, so my neighbor and I went shopping in the morning.  Our favorite store is the Freddie's in Tigard.  It's been a month since I've been shopping there, and had heard they were remodeling the store...man, the story was true, the store is in organized chaos.  Departments have been shifted around so that things you could have found blind-folded, are in a new place...or have temporarily disappeared.

This, made for an interesting shopping experience.  In particular I was looking for their card section that also has creative party things, and to attempt make new cards for my up and coming catalog I was looking for interesting party/holiday card making items. The department was gone from its handy place right next to the Starbuck's, so I began looking (it turned into searching) for it.

First, though, I had to make a stop at the day old bakery rack to look for some goodies for our coffee break after we are done shopping.  I was disappointed there were no donuts, muffins, scones, or cinnamon buns.  Bummer...so, back to hunting down the card department.  I went from one end of the store to the other twice, and could not find so much as a sign indicating where the cards might be.  I mean, come on, everybody has a birthday, the dreaded Mother's Day is just around the corner, followed by graduation and Father's Day...they would not close down the card department.  On my second swing back across the store...there, in the back...without lights...was the card department.  Woooo, hoooo.  I'm glad I was persistent.  I found stickers, ribbons, and confetti's there.  And, at the end of the yarn aisle I found a bag full of sea shells.  Guess what I'm going to tackle tomorrow?  Yep, I'm going to try to make cards with sea shells.  Please, let them be easier to work with than the feathers.  Did I mention feathers are hard?

The remodeling, according to our favorite Freddie's employee, Lisa, is going to last until late in the year, with the grand re-opening in time for the holiday shopping season.  In the meantime she guarantees things will continue to move around, and around, and around, til the end when everything from floor covering to lighting fixtures and everything in between will be new.

It is an exciting time, and my friend and I are going to enjoy the transformation, well, except that Starbucks's will be closed for several months, that we will have to ask clerks where such-and-such is, and putting up with excessive noise from the construction crew.  All in all, it's won't be so bad, right?

Back to 1937

Okay, so I can't give up on the year list on web-sites.  I've been trying to forget I ever went to the bottom of the list and discovered the last year was 1905.  I'm not sure why at really, really, really p-----s me off.
It's just so, so, sooo TERMINAL.  Its an ugly reminder that the only two things we have to look forward to is death and taxes.

Well, we don't HAVE to do the taxes thing if we don't mind losing everything and ending up in prison.  But, the death thing, that just sucks.  Now, please understand I'm not afraid to die, although the awful ways one could go about THAT pretty much scares the heck out of me.  I would like to go quietly, peacefully in my sleep (hmmm, I wonder what those odds are?)

However, what I most dislike about the dying thing is it is something we do HAVE to do.

You ask me to do something, and I will oblige you to the best of my ability, with a kind and loving heart.  Tell me to do something and I turn into a raging bull, a sweating, pawing the ground, snorting, ready to gore your guts out, bull.  Hence, telling me I have to die does not sit well with me.  I'm not going I tell ya', I'm simply not going.  Ask me nice...I might consider it ...but tell me I have to......AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH.

Alright, I know it is inevitable, I don't like it, but I have to face it.  I'm going to go some day.  It is my sincere hope that I leave behind little hints I've been here.  After all, there would be no children, grand-children and great-grand children had I not left my foot print behind.  There would be no journals, scrapbooks, or pictures to remind people of my craziness, desires, loves, earnest hopes and dreams.

And, there are lots of folks I need to thank for making my life's quilt the brilliant color that it is.  I hope I've done you all proud.  Thank you...everybody.

In closing I would like to post the lyrics of one of my most favorite songs, with grateful appreciation to whoever wrote these wonderful words, and music.


And now the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend I'll say it clear
I'll state my case of which I'm certain


I've lived a life that's full
I traveled each and every highway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way


Regrets I've had a few
But then again too few to mention
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption


I planned each charted course
Each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way


Yes there were times I'm sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out, I faced it all
And I stood tall and did it my way


I've loved, I've laughed and cried
I've had my fill, my share of losing
And now as tears subside
I find it all so amusing


To think I did all that
And may I say not in a shy way
Oh no, oh no, not me
I did it my way


For what is a man what has he got
If not himself then he has not
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way


So, folks, whatever your path is, keep the words from the song above as your benchmark in your life.  And, happy living to you all.


There, I think I'm finally ready to let go of 1937.  Whew!

Two short stories

Yesterday was beautiful and warm, so Zorro and I went out front.  He raced around the front yard, exhausting himself while I set about putting a short, decorative garden fence around it.  (How come everything looks easy in the directions and pictures, when in real life it can be a b---h?)  I decided to do this because I have elderly friends stopping by to chat, and his leash gets wrapped around their ankles and mine.  Since we are a litigation orientated society these days, I could see possible law suits pending on the horizon so decided to take affirmative action.  I do have a liability policy, but hope I never have to use it.

This morning I open the front door.  Zorro and I are taking in the splendors of the gorgeous morning, when suddenly he begins to bark in earnest.  I look up and down the street but see nothing out of the ordinary.  I can't figure out what has him so upset.  I walk away from the door, he follows and the barking stops.  I go about my morning activities, but see every time he goes to the door he barks and barks.  Pondering this, and come to realize he is barking at the fence, I don't think he knows what it is, but that it has invaded his yard and wants to go out and stake his claim.  Silly pooch.

Second story.  I decided today was the day to change bed linens.  ( I frequently change the pillowcases, the sheets, not so much) and since I have more laundry to do I decided today was the perfect day to change the sheets as well (a job normally done when I can't remember the last time I did it...DON'T JUDGE ME.)   I  gave Zorro his allotment of peanut butter, and was hurriedly remaking the bed when he and Frankie came into the room.  Zorro immediately jumped up on the bed, rubbing his chin on the top blanket, I guess to get the excess peanut butter off.  Frankie sprawls herself across the bed as well.  So much for finishing the bed.

I bribe Zorro with extra peanut butter, but when I return to the bed room, Frankie is still laying across the bed.

Me:  "You want some peanut butter, too?"
Frankie: "No, I'm sick, sick, sick of peanut butter."
Me:  "How can I bribe you to get off the bed."
Frankie:  "It'll take a lot more than peanut butter."
Me:  "Spam?"
Frankie:  "Nope."

I give her a shove and she rolls over so I can move the blankets up a little."

Me:  "A home cooked, meat and potatoes meal?"
Frankie: "Nope."

I roll her back.

Me:  "last night's left-overs, (a vegetable casserole)."
Frankie: (examining her fingernails) "Nope."

This goes on for several minutes.  I offer suggestions, she refuses every one.

I finally manage to complete the, roll-pull chore, the bed is made.

Frankie sits up, stretches, yawns and finally gets up from the bed.

Frankie:  "I'm glad you didn't offer me kibble, I hate kibble, THAT IS strictly for dogs only.  She exits the room.

I start to dress.  Wait a minute.....how does she know what kibble tastes like?