Can We Blog?

Recently on Facebook the daughter of a friend of mine gasped, " I caught a glimpse of myself in the window and saw my MOTHER ... holy crap!" I laughed. We've all been there. We always think that it will never happen to us, but it always does. And not in a good way. We love our mothers; we just don't want to be them.

My daughter just named me her "blog of the day" so if you're coming from there to here, don't expect to find the stimulation, passion, and intensity that you find in her posts. I admire her for being able to "put herself out there," as they say; but I'm from a bygone era where we were cautioned not to discuss controversial topics like money, sex, politics, or religion. Must explain why we're all in therapy - or should be, if we're not. So if you're here (yawn), travel on over to Wellington Road and check out the latest. Click on follow, not follow me (unless you want to tweet) to become a fan. No charge.

She's wiser, but I'm older.

Rest in Peace

Today is my mother's birthday. As usual, she would have been 29 on the 29th. This is the picture of her that my father carried around in his wallet until the day he died. I think that he always saw her as she was here. She loved big hats and high heels and red lipstick. At her funeral someone remarked that she was the life of the party. Not a bad way to be remembered.

I bet no one ever said that about J. D. Salinger.

Wholey Cow

Whole Foods ........ or to quote the DH ....... "Warehouse of Rudeness." He swears that all the shoppers are self-involved egomaniacs who attempt to maim you with their carts. Points are earned if they elbow you to the ground while reaching past you to grab the organic carrots. Yes. Grocery shopping has evolved into a contact sport. Penalties are assessed for dawdling in the aisles or hesitating in front of the dairy case. It's rush, rush, rush, push, push, push - we've got places to go, things to do......... We've got us a weekend schedule, for chrissakes.

Moi? I just hate the whole grocery shopping scene. I'm meant for those little markets in Paris so I try to send the DH whenever possible - although he's a little shaky in the produce area. if there's a rotten strawberry, he'll find it and bring it home. The whole gathering and preparing scenario is so yesterday for me. Think about it. Three meals a day for a mere twenty years adds up to 21,840 culinary creations. Like I said, "What are restaurants for?" And you can quote me. You're welcome.

Movin' on Down the Road

The new hacienda has three levels with two condos to a floor, garages underneath, and an elevator with issues. We live in the front unit with the bars on the windows. Talk about being a prisoner in your own home .......................

You may have noticed that we move around a bit ......... so many dwellings, so little time. However, my query is: why is it that we keep downsizing, but the carrier keeps upsizing? That truck may have more square footage than our condo.

Boxes .... we've got boxes, we've got lots and lots of boxes. Our telephone is in one of them, but we haven't been able to locate it yet. We'll call you when we do.

Toulouse

How many days is it til Mardi Gras?

When Hell Freezes

Sometimes there is just something that makes you say WTF?? We are practically experiencing a heat wave here in the Big D area with the temperature in the 50s today. Thank God for the iPhone or you would never have believed me. That is ice (you heard me - it's ice) that is crowding the ducks off the pond. Those poor guys probably flew south for the winter and now they'll probably demand their money back, and what with the state of the economy .....

I don't mean to insinuate that Plano, Texas, is Hell. Everybody knows that Hell is in Michigan. 48169.

Cookin' with Gas

You know I can cook when I have to. Fortunately, I don't have to very often. Anyhow, this is my current kitchen, which is about as basic as a kitchen gets although it does come equipped with four stemmed wine glasses and a corkscrew.

Recipes, ingredients, peeling, chopping ............ and then, there's clean-up. Is it worth it?

Maybe not.

My own children confessed, years later, that they waited until my back was turned and then fed their rejects to the garbage disposal. (We didn't have a dog.)

Now I just cook for the DH (really it's for myself ...... some nonsense about creative juices), and, like Mikey, he'll eat anything and like it. I think this ended up as boeuf bourguignon. Ain't no crock pot in my kitchen.

And this is the new kitchen .......... much bigger and shinier. Are those cabinets looming? And, yes, you're right. I'm washing my hands of the whole business. Nice faucet.

I Remember Snow

It's a winter for the record books. Coldest ...... snowiest ......windiest ....... Blah blah blah. Just because we have been inundated with information about global warming, have we forgotten the snows of our youth? Boots and mittens, sleds and shovels. Snow men, snow balls, snow forts.
Icicles, ice skates ........

Would I rather be here? Oh, hell yeah!

Send Al Gore a thermometer, wouldja?