the 9TS and I finally made it to the grocery store yesterday . . . a day late but none the less, we made it. Swooping down the aisles spending an obscene amount of money while adding very little to our basket. I remember shopping with my mother in the 50's and our grocery total was always right about $25.00 for a family of four. What happened???
As we came out and started stashing said measly groceries in the trunk of the car, a man came up and tapped the 9TS on the shoulder and apologized for hitting our car. I honestly thought it was one of the 9TS's friends joking around. From the look on his face, I think my sloth was thinking the same thing. Surely no one would clobber the gray goose!?!?!?! But sadly, they had. But it was a very nice man who apologized profusely, gave us all his pertinent information and said he would call his insurance company as soon as he got home. And he did. I was still in the middle of cooking dinner at 6:30 when the caller I.D. flashed Geico.
This morning at 9:00, the 9TS was sitting nose to nose with a man from the body shop and the Gecko. By 10:00, he was home in his rental with a smile on his face.
Just when you think the world is full of non-repentant jerks behind the wheel. Along comes Mr. Nice Guy, who waits around to tell you the truth and ponies up and does the right thing. Oh, glorious world, we need more of this man.
Oh, and the 9TS is scheduled for another PET scan and an appointment with Dr. K. STILL waiting for a date for the IPI infusion. Snail, thy name is Red Tape.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Monday, June 6, 2011
army the dillo . . .
yesterday, I dragged the 9TS out of his chair and into the pool. Yes, I am mean like that. If he slept all day, he'd be up all night again. Not a good thing.
So there I am floating around the pool in lazy circles and he stands at the edge of the deep end ready to toss himself head first into the pool and stops. Dead. He's looking at something my eyes don't see. Finally he announces he sees a baby in the bushes between our house and the neighbors.
You know I have to inspect said creature. You know I have to take my camera. You know I have to hunt him down:
Isn't he adorable?? He's only about six inches long. I adore these little throw backs to the dinosaur age. I really do, but they are destructive as all get out. They dig and make a mess in your yard. Your lawn becomes toast. But seriously, could you move this little character??? He needs his mom.
Meanwhile, the 9TS has landed in the pool and is happily paddling around. I hop in to play with him. What a really good afternoon it was.
So there I am floating around the pool in lazy circles and he stands at the edge of the deep end ready to toss himself head first into the pool and stops. Dead. He's looking at something my eyes don't see. Finally he announces he sees a baby in the bushes between our house and the neighbors.
You know I have to inspect said creature. You know I have to take my camera. You know I have to hunt him down:
Meanwhile, the 9TS has landed in the pool and is happily paddling around. I hop in to play with him. What a really good afternoon it was.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
freebie friday and the princess . . .
every Friday, Nook releases a new book . . . freebie . . . all you have to do is download it. I've actually read some really good books that way . . . also, some real sinkers. I quickly learned to read the reviews before I download. Nope, not interested in werewolves, vampires, throbbing members or alabaster globes . . . oops, am I allowed to repeat that on my blog???? Of course I am, it's my blog.
This Friday, I ran into a snag. The book refused to download. I tried five or six times. I rebooted. I prayed to the heavens. I murmured bad words under my breath. I stomped around the house and then broke down and called the Barnes and Noble help line. Something I loathe to do. Nothing particular against B&N, I am just not a fan of hour long conversations with the help folks of the world, although they do come in handy on occasion.
Her name, as she identified herself, was Princess. I guess the queen was busy. We repeated all the steps I had tried before, minus the verbal mutterings, still to no avail. Finally, she had me rekey in my credit card number. That seemed to work as my new book began to download and I watched the percentages fly by. Until of course, we got hung up at 92%. Sigh. But Princess prevailed and I finally received my tome.
The problem was, I couldn't get Princess out of my mind. I mean really, who names their kid Princess?? A nickname for a sweet little pink bundle, yes, but a grown woman eking out a living on a hot line for dummies????
But then I remembered a local family who named their sons: King, Baron, Duke and Earl. To each his own and I must admit, they are far better than Clarence or Percival, both of which were in contention when my father was born. Luckily cooler heads prevailed.
So parents, please, for my sake as well as yours . . . unless you want some mad woman ranting on her blog about your choice of names for your children . . . think twice . . . maybe even three times . . . before you choose the moniker for your heirs. Thank you.
This Friday, I ran into a snag. The book refused to download. I tried five or six times. I rebooted. I prayed to the heavens. I murmured bad words under my breath. I stomped around the house and then broke down and called the Barnes and Noble help line. Something I loathe to do. Nothing particular against B&N, I am just not a fan of hour long conversations with the help folks of the world, although they do come in handy on occasion.
Her name, as she identified herself, was Princess. I guess the queen was busy. We repeated all the steps I had tried before, minus the verbal mutterings, still to no avail. Finally, she had me rekey in my credit card number. That seemed to work as my new book began to download and I watched the percentages fly by. Until of course, we got hung up at 92%. Sigh. But Princess prevailed and I finally received my tome.
The problem was, I couldn't get Princess out of my mind. I mean really, who names their kid Princess?? A nickname for a sweet little pink bundle, yes, but a grown woman eking out a living on a hot line for dummies????
But then I remembered a local family who named their sons: King, Baron, Duke and Earl. To each his own and I must admit, they are far better than Clarence or Percival, both of which were in contention when my father was born. Luckily cooler heads prevailed.
So parents, please, for my sake as well as yours . . . unless you want some mad woman ranting on her blog about your choice of names for your children . . . think twice . . . maybe even three times . . . before you choose the moniker for your heirs. Thank you.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
more play . . .
not as happy with these. I think I may end up redoing them before I send them out for print:
credits: all things Anna Aspnes.
Friday, June 3, 2011
play time . . .
spent the afternoon playing in Photoshop . . . . still working on our cruise:
credits: all things Anna Aspnes
Thursday, June 2, 2011
yay!!!!
THE 9TS GOT HIS APPROVAL!!!!!]
Doing the biggest happy dance ever!!!!!
Thank you one and all for your prayers and thoughts.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
boondocks, burps and basa . . .
I woke up with a jolt this morning. I smelled smoke. Half awake, it startled me until I realized it was just the great outdoor ablaze. There are 44 fires in our county alone. It is dry out there folks. As in I can't remember the last time it rained. And I don't mean to be flippant with the word 'just' but I was very relieved the fire was not inside the house.
Joanie called to suggest that, since the smoke was so thick and the view overcast, she drive on our outing instead of taking the little red Miata. And then I saw it out the window, the little *plink*, *plink* of something damp hitting the pavement. RAIN!!!!
It had been previously decided that four of us girls would be dining al fresco on the water today. At Boondocks to be exact, because neither Lee nor Linda had ever eaten there and it certainly fit the criteria of eating on the water.
Look at this:
You can't get much more on the water unless you own one of the boats and were offering us a sumptuous repast on deck. Would you do that please??? See all the *plink* *plink* *plink* on the water. Wonderful, wonderful water.
And so as we noshed on things like fried basa:
and chatted and told stories and lied a little here and there. Well, maybe I was the one lying a tad. I tend to stretch the truth now and again. And Lee just brings out the worst in me. Hee hee hee.
But this little tale does happen to be true and took place at Boondocks many, many years ago. The 9TS and I were down there with my father and Kidlet for our ritual Saturday lunch. The benched tables were packed with diners and we were just about finished with our meal. There was the kind of a lull in the generalized clatter that happens when everyone has dug into their eats and found themselves quite satisfied. And it seems one five year old Kidlet was so satisfied that she let out a burp. No little thing this burp, it was worthy of Yertle and shook the outbuildings. The deck started to wobble and first one diners head and then another and another popped up from their fare to see from whence such an enormous belch had emanated. All eyes focus on a rather pleased Kidlet. All eyes including those of my 82 year old father. A man who set great store by all things mannerly and correct. A man whose eyes clearly said, 'I am not amused', and he was not.
Poor Kidlet, center of attention she did not want was clearly befuddled by the turn of events. It's OK, Kidlet, you graduated from high school and went on to college and the earth did not swallow us up. And it makes for good retelling every time Boondocks is mentioned.
Burp!
Joanie called to suggest that, since the smoke was so thick and the view overcast, she drive on our outing instead of taking the little red Miata. And then I saw it out the window, the little *plink*, *plink* of something damp hitting the pavement. RAIN!!!!
It had been previously decided that four of us girls would be dining al fresco on the water today. At Boondocks to be exact, because neither Lee nor Linda had ever eaten there and it certainly fit the criteria of eating on the water.
Look at this:
And so as we noshed on things like fried basa:
But this little tale does happen to be true and took place at Boondocks many, many years ago. The 9TS and I were down there with my father and Kidlet for our ritual Saturday lunch. The benched tables were packed with diners and we were just about finished with our meal. There was the kind of a lull in the generalized clatter that happens when everyone has dug into their eats and found themselves quite satisfied. And it seems one five year old Kidlet was so satisfied that she let out a burp. No little thing this burp, it was worthy of Yertle and shook the outbuildings. The deck started to wobble and first one diners head and then another and another popped up from their fare to see from whence such an enormous belch had emanated. All eyes focus on a rather pleased Kidlet. All eyes including those of my 82 year old father. A man who set great store by all things mannerly and correct. A man whose eyes clearly said, 'I am not amused', and he was not.
Poor Kidlet, center of attention she did not want was clearly befuddled by the turn of events. It's OK, Kidlet, you graduated from high school and went on to college and the earth did not swallow us up. And it makes for good retelling every time Boondocks is mentioned.
Burp!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
