day 31

and the last one!!!!! Had to go to the market. Katie put in an order for beef over noodles for dinner tomorrow night when she will be in town. She has asked for extra so she will have left overs. Gotta love the starving college student routine. Any way, the meat market had baskets of taters and onions and other root veggies, so there I am snapping away at Ray's.

p.s. Don't tell her, her favorite meal has onions in it. LOL.

sex and the city . . .

I admit it. I am a rabid fan . . . that's one step deeper than an avid fan . . . so of course opening night found Frank, Jackie, Joe and I amongst the throng of movie goers standing in line waiting for one of four possible seatings that hour. That's where the show really began . . . the lobby was chock full of slinky dresses, stilettos, funky jewelry and designer bags. You just knew they were headed to various Cosmo parties afterward to rehash the story line and drool over the couture. Frank and Joe stuck out like sore thumbs in that sea of estrogen but were roundly lauded for their willingness to be there. Let the camaraderie begin . . . until the doors opened and then it was a 472 person cat fight to find the perfect seat . . . or any seat if you were late. They actually cheered as the long familiar theme song wafted through the theatre. I, of course, was rapt. As the theatre emptied . . . no, I am not sharing plot line . . . police were actually directing traffic inside . . . once again, I remind you, this is a small town. If you loved the series, this is a must see. Heck, even the lone bastions of testosterone got a kick out of it.

day 30 . . .

and running out of gas here on this photography thing. Not really, but I usually take shots in bursts . . . of things that catch my fancy, so the idea of finding one good shot each day for 31 days is a little taxing. So today's subject is a cicada shell . . . a very common sight this time of year. As disgusting as their little ex bodies are, I will miss their evening songs.

day 29 . . .

I got cussed out long and loud. I think he was afraid I wanted to share his nut. I'm not sure how he managed to chatter with his mouth full but chatter he did. And that tail, it did not stop swishing to and fro. It's OK squirrel, I can't eat nuts. You are safe.

G double R . . .

So my kidlet was getting on the ramp to the interstate the other day . . . on her way to take a friend to the airport . . . when her right front tire blew. Not just a flat . . . huge shredding of tire . . . gaping mess and core. It just peeled back! Some kind soul changed it for them. But when she texted me the photo I freaked. What if she had actually been on the interstate doing 70 mph when it went . . . Stop, don't even go there! ACK! So it was get thee to the tire store . . . do not pass go. Being a college student, it took her a few days but she called tonight to have Frank talk to tire guy. Seems the store that had been selling her tires (four in two years) had been selling her low quality, dry rotted tires. ACK. The urge to kill.

Reminds me of the time I was young and crazy and drove across country to pick up a friend who had wrecked his bike in the Rockies. My car started dripping somewhere in the middle of Kansas . . . flat barren middle of nowhere, Kansas. The mechanic takes one look and says, "It's your water pump." I replied, "I just had it replaced." He thinks a minute and says, "Then you need new hoses." To which, I replied, "I just got new hoses." So he says, "Well, you need a .55 cent clip." "Fine."

In a perfect world, these guys would be lower than pond scum . . . oh wait . . . they are! G double R!!!

day 28 . . .

I headed out for a shot of yesterday's hibiscus but it was gone . . . moment missed . . . I need to remember not to miss so much. I found this flower in a neighbors backyard and wanted to see how far I could blow it up. Yes, I got distortion but I still like it.

mats and cats . . .

We have a problem with rugs in this house. Unless they are hanging on the wall or made of sisal, (cats do not like the feel of sisal), they do not exist. The problem you ask . . . Snoopy, she replied. Snoop came to us as a feral teen of 18 months. This was some 10 years ago. Yes, we had seen him in the woods and yes he came for food, as long as we were not around, but feral he was. So when he came to live with us, it was no wonder that he was not potty trained. However as much as he took to a litter box to poop, he refused to pee there. So after baptizing every then existing rug multiple times, we had a heart to heart and agreed on washable mats in the vicinity of the litter box. Just one of the oddities of this house. No problem right? Right! Unless you leave a bathmat down. Snoop just can't differentiate between his pads and bathmats. So the trick is to wait until you are totally dry to step out of the shower and nail that mat the second it hits the floor. Life has been good these many years.

Enter Ninja. Ninja seems to think that any bathmat is fair game. And in the two seconds it takes to hit the floor before your foot follows, she is spread out all over it like a queen. I am not good at dodging fur balls with one foot still in the tub and have been known to come crashing down into the porcelain goddess. Ouch. So yesterday when Ninja beat me to the mat yet one more time, I quickly rolled up the mat, cat and all and carried it into the bedroom. Was she phased? Not at all. This morning she won the race again. Why can I not have a measly swatch of cloth to myself? Is it too much to ask???