Peanut butter was our scare for a couple weeks, here in southwest Virginia. I took 2 un-opened jars of Peter Pan back to the grocery store for a refund.We had a small jar of the great Pan stuff that was almost empty.Yes, we had eaten it. When I checked the jar, I found the same identifying number the news folks had warned us all about. Sam and I are still hanging on. I believe the force is probably with us. Do you have a particular scare in your community this week? Just wondering.

*I went to a friend's house today because she had been asking me to come for a while. We went to school together throughout our elementary and highschool years. I may have mentioned her once on another site when I commented on an entry the woman had written about a friend of hers who is self-absorbed. This would be a somewhat fitting description for my friend. I couldn't help but notice her house is not well kept. I'm not speaking of things being tossed about; I have things tossed about from time to time around here. I'm talking not clean, as in unclean, as in down-right dirty. It makes me very nervous to be in a house such as that. I'm somewhat fanatical about a certain amount of cleanliness, and a certain kind of clean. "Self-absorbed" was not the term I was thinking of today. It was good to come home to my place. I left home feeling as though I was leaving a lot of housework to come back to. When I arrived home, things seemed okay, actually really nice.

*I'm thankful to be living here in this country. I am not always happy or proud of the political decisions made in DC. I am not always happy or proud of the people who run our government. However, I'm thankful to have the freedom I do. Who knows when that could be taken from any of us.?

*I think there is always a certain amount of guilt that comes with parenting. Whether necessary or not, the guilt is there from time to time. I wonder if when our grown children are angry with us, it is because they feel a certain amount of guilt from time to time.

*The weather here in southwest Virginia was wonderful today. It was around 55 degrees. It will be cold tonight for sleeping; as it should be this time of year.

*Back to work tomorrow. I haven't seen my friend S since she left the hotel a few weeks ago. I hope she's doing well. Maybe I'll see her again someday.

*I purchased a lovely life-like baby doll this afternoon. I don't know what comes over me at times.

*I always wanted to wear bibbed overalls. I could never bring myself to be comfortable wearing them. I think I have owned a pair at some point in my life. I just felt when I sat down in them, my round belly was kinda' there for all to see. Sooo, I have resorted to my baggy shirts through the years; as if my round belly wasn't under there someplace. I think bibs are so cute. They look great on other people. I really wanted for them to look great on me too. Maybe in my next life...

*Well, I'm a fixin' to go to bed y'all. I know it's early, but I'm whooped !  Night, night...

Menopause.

I went off my estrogen that I had been taking since my hysterectomy 5 years ago. Not only did I think I was safe after 5 years to go off my estrogen, because all the heat waves and everything else that goes with should be over after 5 years, my family doctor expressed to me that estrogens can sometimes be the reason for an elevation level of the thyroid. I think I mentioned to you in an earlier post about the elevation in numbers of my thyroid.

Now, here's the thing. I have mentioned a time or two that I have a history with depression, etc. Some of the same symptoms I have been dealing with for years, are also the symptoms a woman goes through during menopause; all but the effin hot flashes that make me want to throw caution to the wind and run around on my acre of land stark raving naked power surges. When I was taking the estogen, I still  fanned myself profusely from the flames of hell washing over me had the power surges; however, they were not quite as significant as they are with no estrogen at all.

The depression. Well, my question is how do I know what is what? How do I know whether I am having a problem with the mood swings and agitation because of the shit I have battled for years depressive disorder, or the middle-aged mad-woman syndrome menopause? I guess the real issue is not about needing to know which level of hell I am in is which; instead I need to know what happy pills medications I should be focusing on. However, to get the correct happy pill medication, someone does need to know which is which, I think. Oh well, perhaps I could have my shrink consult with my gynecologist; and then, those two might want to have coffee with my family doctor who is concerned about my thyroid elevation. I frankly wanna' get on a cruise ship and travel around the globe for a month or so stay out of the conversation between specialists.

I am okay. Just a little hot around the collar these days. I'm just sayin', maybe this is hell. I will be working fervently to escape and make my way back to higher ground. Until then, think I'll go order some of these babies.

 

Fame. Youth. Addiction. Troubled Souls.

Anna Nicole Smith was 39 years old. Britney Spears is 25 years old. So many others...Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan...

Young Britney, with children, dealing with all that surrounds her in pop-stardom, is at a point of reckoning in her life. I pray she will come outta' this thing a new person.

Anna, a totally confused woman, whose life could have taken a different road than the one that led to her demise.

Do people choose addiction? I don't believe so. I do believe people choose pathways. I realize pop-stars, and others, can come to a place where they find themselves smack dab in the middle of a lifestyle they either cannot handle or no longer want to be living. I don't have any profound thing to say about these women. It is all very sad to see. I am certain it is difficult for parents of middle-schoolers who are fans of Britney, Paris, and Lindsay, to explain how un-cool these young women's lives have truely become.

This is the news of our world today, while on the other side of the planet, young american men and women are fighting in a civil war that will never end; another news story altogether that makes me ill.

Yes, it is all very sad, and I find myself feeling even more frustrated with comics who make a spectacle of  the lives of these people. I understand the famous have put themselves in a position to be talked about, but come on. I find the late night comics who use the misfortune of a young person to try to be funny, quite distasteful. I appreciate Craig for showing some compassion at this point. It helps me to believe there is still hope for humankind.  Don't get me wrong here; I understand part of what comedy is about is poking fun. I find making fun of this man, and this man to be quite entertaining. I also don't believe jokes about them would cause these men to be fragile in any way.

I just pray the young pop stars will come clean and turn their lives around somehow. It is what any of us would want for our own children. I see these girls as somebody's children. I can't imagine what their lives are like, having gained popularity as youngsters basically. I would imagine they have gotten into trouble by not knowing how to be themselves anymore. Not knowing how to live as common people who are their ages. Overwhelmed, to say the least.

These are simply my thoughts; rattling around in my head. No offense intended toward anyone. I know first-hand that addiction alone is difficult enough. I can't imagine combining the life of stardom with the discovery that one is an addict to drugs or alcohol. I know Britney and her friends are aware. I am not certain Anna Nicole even knew she was an addict. What do you think? 

Today I felt bad. I've been bitchy about everything. Come to think of it, I have been feeling this way for a few weeks.

We need a whole new shower stall & door in our large bathroom. Everytime I clean the damn thing, I moan and groan and bitch about it. We will have to go to a mobile home rep. of sorts in order to purchase the correct sizes of everything we need for this project. While we're at it, we will probably replace the sink cabinet, and get a new toilet that sits higher from the ground, for my pitiful arthritic self.

I made my famous "from scratch" chicken pot pie today. I forgot to use one main ingredient; no, I didn't forget the chicken! Shut up. Anyway, I went out a bit ago and picked up the main ingredient of which I speak. I am not going to tell you what it is; not yet. I will post the recipe over in my recipe category with only one recipe so far, because I am lazy common sense recipes category, and let you suppose for yourself which ingredient it was...I added the ingredient, mixed everything again in my 9x13" casserole dish until it began to look like something else all together, and not my chicken pot pie. It is in the oven now, reheating. The taste is great as always, except that now it looks more like a kind of southern (not traditional hungarian) goulash. Often southern folk of a particular area will use the term goulash for something quite thrown together in a mix. In other words, this dish did not end, looking like my usual neatly layered pot pie. For lack of a better identifying description, I'll call my dish, my almost pot-pie, southern goulash casserole.

My family doctor sent me a second letter, after I repeated a second blood test to see if my thyroid gland is over-active. It seems there is yet another slight increase since the first check during my physical exam back in December. Never in all my years did I have an issue with my thyroid. Now, at 46, I may need to start on some medication to calm things down. Hell, I've been calming myself down with a daily dose of prozac and neurontin; and a small dosage of ativan only as needed and rarely taken, for years. I thought I had discovered all the calming I would need to carry my ass through the rest of my years in this 3rd millennium. Bitch, bitch, bitch...

Sam may be thinking he'd like to leave me today; though I honestly haven't bitched directly at him. I suspect he has listened in from time to time as I've walked through the house doing my homemaker's duties, mumbling stuff to myself.

It is bitter f****** cold outside, and I am still waiting for enough snow to kick my feet around in. I want snow. Not bitter cold! I waited a whole month to take our Christmas tree down because I wanted to enjoy it while looking out my window, where our view of the outdoors is gorgeous with every season, at thick, white, snowy snow! Never happened! The tree came down the end of January. I have seen flurries. No thick, white, snowy snow. More bitching... 

I have an ionic pro sitting atop a table here in my computer room. I keep it here because in the corner of the room inside a little cubby closet space, is Pickle's litter box. I clean the damn thing regulary, (along with Pickle's litter) and it is making a difference in the air in this room. However, it is making an awful noise. It's kinda' like maybe the ions are crashing into other particles within the airspace. I don't know what the hell I'm speaking of here because I am not certain about the scientific reality of this advertised to be quiet, air purifier thingy. Damn thing works; just won't stop the static-y squealing shit. As you can see when you link to the pro's site, there is a note at the very top of the page promising complete silence when machine is in use. Then you will see a note about the little buzz down at the bottom of the ad. Which is it gonna' be, silence or buzzing sound? My machine exhibits neither! The damn thing is squealing. Another trip out for another replacement item, on another day...  

I miss Victoria. She emails now and then. She emailed about a week ago and asked me to send any w2s she may receive at our address. I sent her a valentine and a package containing the Star Wars trilogy collectible dvds, along with a calendar of Jimi Hendrix. Each month features a different song lyric and photos of the great Hendrix dude. I really miss her. She is doing the thing; you know, right of passage, and all that jazz. She is finding her own way. She is becoming her own woman. I will be glad to know her again someday.

Well, I guess I'll go in and take the goulash stuff outta' the oven. We'll try 'er again, boys..

Goodnight all.  

I remember watching my mom when I was a little girl. I would follow her around from one room to another of the apartment in the high-rise building where she lived in Cleveland; whenever I was there with mom for visits during school breaks. I watched as she picked out something to wear for the day; I watched as she applied her make-up ever so precisely. I was quite enamored by my mother's physical beauty.

I remember my mom's sweet smile to me when she had added the finishing touches to her lipstick; the very same smile, inherited from her grandmother Sally Mae, gives her lovely face the endearing look she always possessed, still today.

I remember a relationship with my mother through the years. Though I wasn't with her in the city during the school year, there was never a time when I was sick, that my mom didn't know. Somehow, to the amazement of my grandparents as well, my mother just knew if something was wrong down home in West Virginia. I remember many visits with mom, several times each year of my life, while I made my home with mom's parents.

We used to laugh and talk as we traveled from West Virginia to Cleveland, and back to my home with my grandparents in West Virginia again. When I'd ask the question all little children ask after traveling the first 10 miles or so of a long trip, my mom would say to me, "lie down in the comfortable place we made for you in the seat, and go to sleep. When you wake up, we'll be there." Many trips were made back and forth between my two homes. My mom was always sure to make those trips...

I have many other memories of my mom. These are simply what I call our connecting memories. My mother and I have always been connected, even when we were apart.

Mom and I just came from dinner. We went out early because we knew places all over town would be packed later tonight. Celebrations of Valentine's Day between lovers and friends, will be everywhere tonight. I hope I did a little something today that helped make my mother's birthday a special one. When I went to pick her up for late lunch/early dinner, the wind was whipping against the balloons that covered my face. With a couple dozen roses in one hand and 7 balloons in the other, one balloon for each decade of my mother's life, and a gift bag smashed against my chest, I was hoping she would be the one to come to the door. Alas, it didn't go that way.

My mom's husband opened the door with a look of surprise and said, "no wonder you were knocking for someone to open the door. Your hands are full!" Well, yes they were full; but I figure anyone who lives to be 70, making it through all the stuff my mother has made it through during her life, deserves at least, a handful of good gift stuff to go with...

All in all, mom and I had a nice day, I think. We ate a new italian dish at Applebees, made with penne pasta and sweet italian sausage. Not bad. I think I could perfect the dish here at home with my flare for making "the sauce".

Mama smiled across the table to me with the same endearing smile she has shared all through the years. As I looked at her, I found it difficult to imagine that my mother is 70. I am still enamored by her physical beauty; and even more now, by her spiritual beauty. Mom, your pure heart is truely your most special beauty of all. Happy 70th birthday, valentine! 

 

I asked Sam a few days ago to help me clean out the spare bedroom closet just enough to make room for some of my more fragile Christmas items that I don't want stored in our building outside. He said that he would help on his next day off work.

 Today was that day!

I woke up around 11:30 this morning, after sleeping late from a long yesterday that was topped off with a rough night at work last evening, and, I was awake for whatever reason between 5 and 6 this morning. Anyway, I awoke to my dear Sam, who was digging his way through the spare bedroom closet. He pulled everything, EVERYTHING, out of that closet! I had no idea the amount of shit these doublewide closets can hold!

Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I listened as Sam gave orders. Heh...

I got dressed and we went to breakfast. My mom met us at the "Cookery". Believe me or not, the cookery is a really nice restaurant inside one of the travel centers near our home. Those folks serve a mighty fine breakfast. We shared good conversation over a few cups of coffee after our meal. I told my mom it was her day before birthday breakfast, as mom will be celebrating her 70th birthday on Valentine's Day.

Ah, the closet! Well, I needed to do some shopping after breakfast, but Sam declined to join me, so we came back home. I proceeded to work on the shredding of more old papers Sam had dug out of that closet. I also threw away what seems like shitloads of junk. All this, while Sam had crawled back into bed for an afternoon nap! Ha...

We finally ended up doing some shopping together earlier this evening. Sam is now back in bed because he really likes it there has to get up at 5:00am. to get ready for work once again. Yet another 12 hours of his life in the plastics factory. I finished cleaning my kitchen spotless; fridge and all, an hour or so ago. I am preparing for company this weekend and I really had too much other stuff to do to get started on such thorough cleaning of closets so near the weekend. However, I realize I did ask my dear husband for his help. Perhaps I wasn't quite clear enough in explaining what I actually wanted. S'pose I need to work on that.

I'm gonna' do a little more work in the closet before I retire to the bedroom, and most definitely come outta' there.

I received this via email and deemed it worth sharing with all. I know I am cheating. Just smile and be happy today!

Last Tuesday President Bush was carrying a piglet under each arm when he got off the helicopter in front of the White House.

The squared away Marine guard snapped to attention, saluted, and said:  "Nice pigs, sir."The president replied, "These are not pigs. These are authentic Arkansas Razorback Hogs. I got one for Cheney, and I got one for Rove."

The squared away Marine again snapped to attention, saluted, and said,"Excellent trade, sir."

Although, upon reading their involvement with humans, do you not sense some similarity between creatures? I know, I know, I am not being nice. Chill, and peace out dudes. 

It's about 50 degrees here today. It was a very calm morning weatherwise; no wind blowing, and really quiet outside on our acre of land. I watched the sun shine on Bentley's white coat as I walked with him and Jesse through the yard. He looks like soft cotton bouncing around when the sun is on him. Jesse looks lovely as well. Her gray is beginning to peep through the brown curls of her coat. Very noticeable in the sunlight.

I stood watching my dogs, and giving thanks that Bentley has once again, for the second time, made a comeback from his awful neck and back problems. As I stood, I realized I was feeling the warmth of the winter sun on my back. Sure, we see the sun shining during the winter quite often, but usually its warmth cannot penetrate the cold temperature. Today has been like early spring; just a little cloudy, with the sun peeping through the clouds now and then, and  it was 50 degrees.

It was nice to see Bentley making his way through the yard just fine. It was nice to see Jesse wanting to be playful with the "Bentley boy", because usually the tables are turned and Bentley is always the insistent one regarding play with Jesse. She has always wanted him to leave her be.

It was nice to feel the warmth of the winter sun.

Stolen from reverendmother's site. Here are my answers:

1) If I could sing like anyone, it would be Etta James-- one of my favs.

2) I would love to sing the song "Crazy", by Patsy Cline--another one of my favs. ( I can sing it very well--don't judge me :)

3) It would be really cool to sing at Carnegie Hall, as well.

4) If I could sing a dream duet it would be (or have been) with Louis Armstrong.

5) If I could sing on a TV or radio show, it would be David Letterman.

Now, tell me yours!