Archive | November, 2012

New Goals, Dinner, Lizard Spit

30 Nov

Today, I have to re-think my purpose for being here.

It seems that my set goal is interfering with my necessary goal, which is to make a living.

So, I am changing my raison d’etre ici.

I have to concentrate on designs for my Ravelry store and products for my Etsy shop.

And I have to write.

So the project goal has been suspended and although I’m sure my projects will continue, they will do so infrequently. The blog posts will continue. That’s too much fun to abandon.

Today I begin again. I want to do what I love and still bring home some bacon. I love pig. Have to have green in order to have pig! And I do not want to work for anyone else again. It’s difficult for a fringe dwelling, pantyhose hating, jeans loving, red-headed, wild haired, random, possibly ADD woman with attitude to work in Corporate America.

I want to avoid that if at all possible.

SUPPERTIME

Dinner’s late, it’s time to cook.

Pull out the pot, the recipe book,

Gather together needed ingredients,

No time to dawdle, be expedient.

Lizard spit, tail of cat,

Eye of newt, ear of bat,

Hair of horse, a puppy tooth,

Supper’s a spell of witch, forsooth.

Chop and mix and stir it well.

Watch it bubble, watch it swell.

Mutter, snort, and purse the lips.

Invoke fat absence from the hips.

Add powdered croc, a bit of spice.

Tap the pot, circle it thrice.

Sprinkle in baboon butt fur,

Crumble and add two cocklebur.

Now it’s done, supper’s ready.

Hold the bowl, keep it steady.

Serve it up, eat your dinner.

Mama’s brew, alas a winner!

I love writing stupid poetry.

I tried a blood glucose lowering drug for a while that was derived from a chemical found in the saliva of the Gila monster. I called it lizard spit. It is an injection. Stuff made me hurl. Repeatedly.  I tried that therapy twice. Just couldn’t hang with the nausea.

Ewwwweww, right?

In other news, I managed to get a couple more garlands lit and placed around the Christmas village. We need a couple more village pieces now that there is a dedicated place above the windows to display them. I’ll check the stores tomorrow. Bob and I are going to Christmas shop and perhaps take in a movie. It’s our weekend adventure. Aren’t we just the most exciting old people ever?

So now I wish you a happy weekend.

See ya Monday!

Cleaning, Naked, Gods of Sleep

29 Nov

Today slipped by in a fog. No, not a drunken fog. I gave up booze cause of my diabetes. Never drank much anyway.

Although there was that one time…..oh…and then later….well that morning I woke up naked in the kitchen floor was just a fluke.

No, today was a tired fog. I wielded way too much Comet yesterday.  This place hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned since before the installation of new ductwork. OMG….it was nasty. I found cobwebs and dust and construction dust and dust bunnies. I couldn’t get all of it. Time and tired were not on my side, but at least now I can continue with the holiday decorating. And I can live with it. What we really need is someone to come in and power wash the entire interior and exterior. That would do it.

Whew.

So after staring at this screen for, like, ever, I finally just gave up and napped. The dogs and I had a lovely 3 hour snooze on the dog sofa. No pictures were taken.

I probably need to shower again.

Yup. Tired. Or as we say in the South, tarred.  Born tarred and nivr got over it. Hehehehe.

My day was sacrificed to the gods of sleep.

I must remember to make sacrifice more often.

R-rated Bunco

28 Nov

We played Bunco tonight. Twelve women ranging in age from 25 to 72 gather once a month to roll the dice. We were short one tonight, so Zach and Tony filled in for us.  They learned things.

In some weird twist of Sarah’s trivia filled brain, the conversation took the tilt-a-whirl around to merkins, those pesky pubic wigs first introduced in the 1450’s for prostitutes. Can you see Team Merkin taking the National Bunco Championship?

My merkin will definitely be on the outside of my britches. I’m thinking feathers and lace with a little leather and a couple of spiky things. How about a new concept in sweat pant decoration, something for all us crafty types to get our hands on….uh?  Just think what one could do with a little glitter, a feather boa, and a gold chain or two. Go punk? Goth?  Something trendy for sure. Suggestions for our team uniform flew around the room.

We are some creative women.

How about a tee? ‘Show me your merkin.”

Wonder if merkins are available in plus size? Now there’s a TMI for you.

Falon said she’s dressing as a merkin next Halloween.

Sarah said she’d be the perfect merkin for the 50 foot tall woman.

I just sat and pondered the size of a part requiring a merkin of that dimension.

That’s some scary pondering. A fella could fall in and just disappear!

R-rated Bunco. Not for everyone.

Projects, Polyester, Party, and Signs

27 Nov

Today, I’m posting two projects. They are here. This was amusing.  I’m always amused. Sometimes more so than others.

I shopped for new lights to accommodate picture taking this morning.  I’ve been wandering around the house looking for some way to set up a small ‘studio’ and jokingly mentioned under my desk as the perfect spot. Well that’s the spot lights and white board will be calling home. Wooooowhooooo. Picture taking will no longer be a dreaded chore! I can get the project photos any time day or night! Just pick up the camera and shoot those puppies.

Today is the day for, dare I utter the word….senior …discounts at Kroger.

I told Falon this morning that I really hate that word. It somehow implies that I am rushing toward my demise with nary an obstacle in my path. Not a pleasant thought. I have too many projects, too many places to visit, people to see.

There is a sure sign for loss of my mental acuity.  If I lose my jeans and boots and cute little hats, it’s time to shoot me. No polyester and certainly none of those yucky grandma shoes will grace my shopping bags, let alone my body.

I may revert to a sweats wearing slob, but never again polyester. Never again.

My mom made polyester dresses for me when I was growing up. It was the latest in no-iron, care-free fabric. I hated that shit. It’s evolved, I will admit, but visions of a chunky kid in polyester still haunt my dreams. It was a bit thick, didn’t breathe, created impossible static, and clung in all the wrong places.

Anybody else out there old enough to remember that stuff?

It was gross.

In college, I was strictly a jeans and work shirts kinda girl. I did embroider some of my work shirts. Pretty suns and flowers and little trees of thread worked across the back added a bit of a girly touch. And then I would sew outrageous dresses to wear when I worked the theatre front of house. One night I stepped out to the disco, feather boa wrapped and a ‘tattoo’ of Dali’s Capricorn on my shoulder, done in colored makeup by my best bud Michael. That particular night I wore clunky black sandals with lace-trimmed ankle socks with a black backless dress just skimming my ankles. Michael wore a vintage tux.

Geez, were we cool or what?

And that brings us to cooler weather. Mmmm…..I love autumn. Some days are actually cool and crisp here in my Southern hometown. Sweaters and sweatshirts come out of the closet. We do not, however, pack away the shorts. Things can change rather abruptly. I find it rather amusing to go out in public this time of year. You’ll see folks with jackets and scarves, followed by a guy in shorts and flip flops. Lately I’ve spied several women in their pajama bottoms….I have no clue. It must be a new trend. One I will not be following.

It’s time to finish cleaning the house, or go to bed and do it tomorrow.

I much prefer the latter idea.

Woman Seeks Commitment for Black Friday Shopping

26 Nov

I am a blogaholic. It’s been five days since my last post.

Two hours later… I ‘ve made it through all my email! Taking the holiday to cook, eat, and shop really put me in a state of behind. I like that. State of Behind. That’s my perpetual state of being. I live in a State of Confusion.  I wonder if the State of Behind is synonymous with the State of Late. I suppose that would depend on how you define late. I don’t think it would work for the late Mr. Smith.

Tuesday, I shopped for groceries and an odd assortment of craft supplies. Wednesday dear hubby and I did chores and errands. Thursday I cooked, we ate, we played Fill or Bust and then Falon and I left the house on a night long shopping expedition.

What were we thinking?

Apparently we weren’t thinking at all.

We started at Walmart at 8 p.m. People had been lined up for four hours according to one of the staff. We missed a few deals.

We headed to Sears tool department. The things I wanted didn’t go on sale till 4 a.m.

Michael’s was next. Now that was a joy. We got what we wanted and the store was not crowded.

Next stop Kohl’s. Kohl’s was opening at midnight so we had a few minutes in the parking lot, in the rain. I checked my blood sugar, injected my insulin, and we played games on our I-phone and Kindle Fire, respectively.

We got some of what we wanted and a couple of things we stumbled across. We stood in line for over an hour to check out, but that was okay. Kohl’s gets you through pretty quick. They have method to the madness!

By this time, my blood sugar had dropped a little lower. I was hungry again. We went to Denny’s for breakfast. Num!

Next stop was Gordman’s at 5 a.m. It was still drizzling. We napped for a few minutes, played more games….then decided to skip Gordman’s and go to Penny’s for their 6:00 a.m. opening.

Penney’s was a struggle. Folks is crazy. And the fine print on the signs equals disappointment in the check-out line. I lost Falon, nearly got trampled, she yelled for me, I heard her….told her I was headed to the back, stood in line only to find out about said fine print and left with her swearing she’d never do it again.

I should have recorded her, video and sound.  Some of the sound would be X-rated.

At least we made line friends. You know those people you chat up while standing in line attempting to stave off frustration and sleep?

In our sad, frustrated, sleep-deprived, State of Fogginess, we decided to head North to Joann Fabrics.

It was the best stop ever! I actually got fabric and pinking shears, rotary cutting blades, and a dog toy for less than the cost of the fabric shears. I was soooooooooo happy. And there were no large crowds, no lines. I was sooooooooo much happier.

I dropped Falon at home and headed to the house. Finally at approximately 10:00 a.m. Friday morning I found the sofa.  Woke up just in time to make dinner and go back to sleep.

FIVE REASONS TO STAY HOME AND INTERNET SHOP ON BLACK FRIDAY:

  1. FOLKS IS CRAZY
  2. PEOPLE WILL APPARENTLY KILL FOR A GOOD DEAL (See Number 1)
  3. SLEEP DEPRIVATION MAKES FOLKS RUDE AND PUSHY (See Number 1)
  4. SOME PEOPLE WILL BUY MULTIPLES OF GOOD DEALS THEREBY DEPRIVING OTHERS OF SAID DEAL (See Number 1)
  5. YOU STAY HOME, I GET THE DEALS. Hahaha.

I’ve left specific instructions for my commitment to a pre-chosen asylum should I EVER consent to Black Friday shopping outside the confines of my laptop again. The arrangements have been made.

So after all that I’m thinking a weekend of decorating and crafting, right?

MAKING PLANS 101: Don’t Do It.

Saturday morning I’m drinking coffee and trying to figure out if it’s still Friday. Bob comes out showered and fully dressed. Do I wanna go to Best Buy with him?

Not only no, but HELL NO!

I fall out of my chair. Shopping? Again? Just shoot me now.

It’s my fault. I told him to shop for his computer sound card. It’s been blown for months and he’s been using a poor crippled dino Dell.

Okay, I’ll go.  I sigh really big and head to the shower.

Bob drives. I put on a bit of makeup. We go to Best Buy.

Then Home Depot and Target… We stopped at Starbucks, Old Navy and Penney’s (I’m masochistic)….

And eight hours later we came home.

We bought a new computer instead of a sound card. We Christmas shopped for the kids. I picked up new makeup.

And the stores were gloriously, wonderfully, free of lines. Almost dead.

Now we know when to shop sales.

After dinner we returned to Best Buy to pick up his new computer.

I really dread balancing our checking account after last week. I have a mental tab running. It makes my bar tabs dwindle into insignificance, although I am a cheap date. Please don’t spread that around. It’s my best kept secret.

But the real horror of it all? I have to go out again tomorrow.

This time, I’m going armed.

21 Nov

I missed my post yesterday.

It feels like a new lover has gone. Over one missed post.

Wow. I’m hooked.

Yesterday almost did me in.

First stop: the vet’s office. It was a last ditch effort to control the flea population. Frontline hasn’t been working. We tried a couple of different applications. Dogs still scratched.

So I bit the bullet and bought the oral treatment.

Looks like the fleas are gone.

I’m doing a happy dance.

Don’t look, it’s not pretty. I can’t dance.

So, after the vet’s office, I realized the rear compartment of Bru-honda was full of Goodwill donations. Oh no. Oh hell. I was in Benton.

I adjusted and stopped at Wal-Mart in Bryant. My purchases were safely loaded into Bru’s backseat.

I headed back to Little Rock. It’s a quick trip. Benton is only about 15, maybe 20 minutes from my house. Bryant is less than 10 minutes from the vet’s office.

Next stop: Goodwill.

And finally, I was headed to the grocery store.

Kroger was….interesting. I put on my happy face and started in the restroom. Well geez, I had coffee before I left the house. A girl’s gotta pee, right?

The coffee shop had been eclipsed by a Honey Baked Ham display. The attendant told me I could get more coffee at the deli. Okay. I needed more coffee.

Produce department is in front of the deli, so I proceeded to dodge all the elderly that were clogging the aisles. Later I discovered that Tuesday is Senior Day and you get an additional 5% off.  I should have suspected the store was going to be somewhat chaotic. Produce was littered with boxes and carts. The guys were desperately trying to restock shelves. And squash wouldn’t be in for half an hour.

Coffee next. Got it!

There was one little old lady on a motorized cart. Her walker was in the basket. Her husband was pushing another cart. Seemed like every aisle I turned into was blocked by the two of them side by side. He would notice, move his cart and allow the rest of us to pass.

The baking aisle was a zoo. The poor lady trying to restock was overheard muttering plaintively, ‘I can’t catch up!’.

We, the shoppers, seemed to maintain a good attitude. I chatted with several. Then we moved on.

I finally left the store, all my bags packed, and $186.00 poorer.

Home.

I’m driving and trying not to think of unloading and putting all this stuff away, not to mention pondering the chore of cooking it…and then cleaning up after the cooking it….and then cleaning up after the eating it…

The ‘I need gas light is on’. I forgot to get gas.

Sam’s is now added to the list of stops.

Might as well get some Taco Bell while I’m this close.

I got home just before 2.

I unloaded. I started to put away.

My lack of sleep caught me and there were a couple of hours of slow motion while I continued the chore list.

Enter Bob. As I was explaining my method of thawing the turkey, he decided he wanted a whole turkey to stuff instead of the breast I had purchased for the five of us.

Okaaaaayyyyyyyy… I’ll stop at Kroger again. No problem. Freeze the breast for next month.

Falon came over to use the Cricut.

I left for dinner with Sherri’s mom, Dorothy. I had her flight itinerary for Thanksgiving with Sherri.

So dinner, then take-out for the kids.

Time to buy Bob’s turkey. The only turkeys left were over 20 pounds. So be it. Bob got a BIG turkey.

I wonder if that’s a sign.

Finally home to stay shortly after 7:30.  My ass was draggin’.

And I still had to make room for a 20 pound turkey in the fridge.

The day just would not end.

I finally found a home for the turkey, Zach went off to play with friends, Falon left the Cricut and went home, and I crashed.

Now that’s a day in a common, almost senior woman’s life.

And I missed my post. I’m so sad.

Tonight and tomorrow I will bake and shake together a Thanksgiving meal to share with my beautiful family.

I bid you a Happy Thanksgiving, a happy holiday. I will be back with more antics next week.

I hope I have given you a smile!

A Pagan Christmas, Master, and Yard Art

19 Nov

I’m drinking coffee and pondering the Universe.

Now there’s  an endeavor that will push me forward.

I seem to be victim to an inertia I can’t identify.

Trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

Now there’s a serious problem for a woman pushing 60.

Focus.

I was checking online degree programs.  Would I like to pursue a Master’s in Creative Writing? That’s some expensive sh*t.

Don’t I have a way with words?

If I wait another year, I can attend the local university with fees and tuition waived. I’ll be an official senior citizen then.  And the same applies to a writing program just 30 minutes away. The tuition there is quite reasonable for any student. Perhaps start the first semester as a paid student and finish as a senior?

Geez, this just ain’t right. I’m way too young to be a senior citizen. The Golden Years.  It does not compute.

Today is a busy one…this week is a busy one. I’m such a kid about decorating for Christmas. We actually don’t do a big tree anymore. Too many animals. So I do wreaths and hangings, and small trees all over the place. I did bring the Christmas Village down from the attic. It’s waiting to go up.

I look at this celebration in a pagan sort of way. It’s winter. It is a time for seasonal affective disorder. It’s time to let your hair down and enjoy a party with the family, tell them how much you love them, exchange gifts, and eat. Last year I didn’t have time to wrap all the stocking stuffers. Some were too big for the stocking anyway. So I put them all in a huge flannel Santa bag, made my family close their eyes, and passed them out. I really had fun with that one. Might just have to repeat it.

Speaking of the eating part, my tradition for Christmas is a scratch German Chocolate Cake. It’s Zach’s favorite too so we do one for his birthday on December 3 as well. My mom started this one. I love German Chocolate Cake, the best part being the coconut pecan icing. For as long as I can remember, she made one for me every Christmas with a double recipe of the icing. Yummmmmmmmm.

It’s a diabetic nightmare. So pump up the insulin once a year. Cause this is a must have on my list. I have conceded to a recipe and a half of icing. There are some things you just have to splurge on.

I love the lights. I love to turn all the house lights out and sit in the glow from the Christmas lights. I love Santa Clause. My kids asked me if I believed in Santa when they were little. Yes, I believe in the spirit of Santa Clause. I’m kinda sneaky.

Falon is my favorite oldest child. Zachary is my favorite youngest child. Barry is my favorite middle child. Makes them all my favorite.

They roll their eyes at me. Diplomatic relations with children are tricky no matter their age.

I ran across a deer this morning in the yard, but she was startled and took off for the back forty. One of them was almost within touching distance of Bob a few days ago. Dog went ballistic and scared her. She ran too.

The following were stationary when I went to the mailbox, so I got pics.

Sun and Moon on a Cloudy Autumn Morn

Autumn Out Back

Autumn Berries

Pretty Pink Camellia

I is so happy to see the camellia. Did you ever see the movie ‘Camille’? Great movie.

What a segue!

I’m now officially behind on Pinterest inspired tutorials. We’re crafting this upcoming weekend though, so I’ll catch up. I really have to build a Photo Studio and find my floodlights. I may have to make the studio under my desk. The floodlights were lost in the attic emptying.

I’m not going to start an organizing trend again. Just try to stay on track with what I’ve got. After all, a cluttered desk is the sign of a genius at work.

I must have an IQ off the charts.

Weekend, Travel, and Plans

16 Nov

Okay….it’s Friday. Weekend is upon us! Tomorrow we’re headed to a morning movie.

‘’Flight’ is on the agenda. We’ll drop off the recycling and hit the theatre.

It’s popcorn for breakfast tomorrow. Oh yeah! I love popcorn.

Back in the dinosaur days, when I was young, we engaged in movie marathons.  How many movies can you pack into a weekend? Hey, we didn’t have DVR’s back then. We actually had to leave the house.

Movies were an outlet for generating ideas and learning acting techniques for us lowly theatre majors.  Theatre tours and movies made all those dreams seem possible.

Ah, the joy of youth. We are immortal when we are young.  All things are possible. The future is limitless.

Eeewwwwwuuuuuueweuuu! Waxing nostalgic is not pretty. Time to move on.

Just a note about this week’s second project; its super easy and I’ll do my best to post it tomorrow. I got side-tracked today and didn’t get the pics done.

And now I’m sooooo sleepy. Too many carbs for dinner!

Late this afternoon, I set out on a mission to exchange the sewing machine pressure foot.  I’m driving down the interstate toward the small metropolis of Benton. I want to keep driving. The traffic is heavy, but the road beckons. How far could I go on the money in my pocket….probably get to Texas? Maybe even get to Dallas.

I hate Texas. Bush’s election as governor there led me to question the sanity of Texans long ago. They perpetrated that monster on the rest of us just by giving it a start. Then Jeb helped him steal Florida.

I’m a bitter woman. That’s eight years I’d really like to wipe from history, especially the evil Cheney.  Bet there’s a 666 somewhere on that man. I felt like that was a shotgun wedding with no divorce court in sight, imprisoned by someone else’s vow. I shudder.

Back to our discussion of Texas, it’s flat. It’s just ain’t pretty. Once you leave Arkansas it stays ugly till you get to the Gulf. It’s flat, trees are all less than 10 feet tall, and it’s dusty.  And did I say, flat?

I know the western part is probably much better, but so far I haven’t made it there. Considering the Bush issue, I may not. Really bad taste

I do love travelling through Tennessee on I-40 headed to the Atlantic. The Smoky Mountains are gorgeous. North Carolina is a pretty sight as well. The mountains there were a joy to behold.

Mississippi’s azaleas make a spring trip amazing. And roadside stands with boiled peanuts are everywhere.

Alabama, is well, Alabama. Georgia really does have red clay. And that concludes our tour today.

Tomorrow we’ll go to South Carolina, Florida, Oklahoma, Missouri, and Kansas.

Then we’ll head to Canada.

Guess I was just in the mood for travel this afternoon. We gave up our annual Thanksgiving vacation this year when I was relieved of employment at the first of September. We were headed into the Smokies to meet friends for a long weekend of food, fun, and catching up. I was really sad to let that go.

In lieu of the Smoky Mountains, Falon and I are mapping our plans for Black Friday shopping. I’m such a pushover.  I said yes when she asked me to go. I insisted on being bribed with breakfast.  Once we complete our surgical shopping, it’ll be an IHOP kind of day. Her treat.  I will need copious amounts of coffee, eggs and bacon.  Then a long nap.

Thank goodness there will be leftovers for Friday night.

Peanut, Molly, and an Early Night

15 Nov

I started writing a story today. I wanted to finish it but I exercised my randomness too much. I’m hoping the story will be a good exercise in writing. I need one. I need to find the focus to stay with something for longer than 600 words. Wish me luck.

I had an early night last night, just couldn’t keep my eyes open. So about 10 I began the nightly routine; insulin, lock up, bathroom, a little soda to wash down the meds, retrieve the Kindle and the phone, turn out the lights, check the night lights, fold the last load of clothes, straighten the bed (Bob always leaves it in a tangled mess when he gets up for his night shift at the hospital!)…

Why is it when a woman says she’s going to bed, it takes forty five minutes to get there? A man will say he’s going to bed and he just goes to bed. From spoken word to under covers in less than a minute.

Anyway, I finally did crawl under the covers. Peanut was waiting for me. He likes to snuggle. Molly whined. And paced. Since I don’t like to shut the bedroom door when I’m alone, I have two choices: listen to her whine or allow her to sleep on Bob’s side. Hehehehe. That cracks me up. Poor Bob.

It’s a no-brainer. Molly doesn’t give up her neuroticism just so I can sleep.

So upsy-daisy. She rolls around on me, head down, making little noises for a few minutes. It’s normal for Molly. Geez, I really need to get the dog some good drugs. Finally, she settles down in the middle of the bed next to the pillows. Good thing it’s a king-sized bed.

Now Peanut loves to chew on Molly’s ears. He gets downright obsessed. Last night before the ear attraction kicked in, the little creep started bouncing around, barking and growling at Molly, doing his best to entice her to play. She tried to ignore him. She kept her head down, her eyes closed.

She couldn’t resist. So she jumped up, twirled in a circle, took 3 steps forward, and dove headfirst under the covers against my side.

Molly generates a LOT of body heat. I feared for my Kindle.

Peanut, before I could make any attempt to remove Molly, began to paw the covers, his little feet moving rapidly, making a sweet verbal entreaty for her to come out and play.

Well she was coming out one way or another. Once removed, I decided to lose the glasses, the Kindle, and the light. That always calms them down, peace is restored.

Not last night. Once again, I feel Molly twist as Peanut continues his assault. She dives again!

What? Are we playing submarine?

I embarked upon another mission to remove Molly and calm Peanut. They finally got the message, but my early night had slipped away.

Oh, the joys of being a pet parent, the joy of unconditional love. So worth it.

Space, Diss-organized, Dropsey Drawers

14 Nov

We have nearly 2000 square feet of house, a barn, two sheds, two attics, five acres,  and I’m still trying to find a space to contain my serious amount of sh*t.

I have too many hobbies and too many tools, supplies, and accessories for each hobby.

Anyone got any ideas for me?  Cheap ideas are good. Free ones are even better.

Falon says I just need to finish one project before moving on to another. I think she may be on to something.

That could be the problem. I just hate to admit it. How many character flaws does one have to ‘fess up to in a lifetime?

Tomorrow is a new day. Perhaps I can begin a new leaf, finish all the loose ended projects, and start fresh on Friday. What a thought. Clear the minutiae. Clear the desk. Clear the head.

Who am I kidding? My efforts at organizing are legendary in their failure. Bob just waits until I’m not home and throws stuff in the trash.

I try not to notice. Wonder if that’s what happened to the missing sewing foot?

My friend in South Carolina called this afternoon. She designs and makes wreaths. I asked her about my inability to organize. She knows me well. We’re both suffering from an attention problem. She suggested I do what she does.  Close the door to the workroom quickly before things fall out. I can do that.

I’m still tired of wasting time looking for things, or going to buy more. It is such a time eater-upper. I know you’ve heard of eater-uppers. Right?

My mom used to say people who weren’t too quick on the uptake were eaten up with it. Eaten up with dumb-a$$. I won’t tell you how she defined the ‘f’ word for me when I asked. Suffice it to say she didn’t even come close.

Mom worked as a psychiatric nurse in the state hospital. One day she came home chuckling about something unknown to us. She chuckled occasionally while preparing dinner. We finally heard the tale. One of her co-workers left the ward to go home. Mom was standing at a window as the woman sought her car. Mom noticed her abruptly stop in her walk across the parking lot. She stepped to the side, shook one foot, and bent to retrieve her loosey-goosey panties from the ground where they had fallen and pooled around her ankles. She put them in her purse and continued to her car.

I’d a died ‘fore I picked up them drawers. And I don’t think I would have returned to work the next day. Losing my britches in public is not funny.

Now someone else losing their britches is hysterical.

I is so bad.

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