Klitty Litter

Went to mom's for game night last PM. I lost really big in Hearts but still had a grand time picking on everyone. We had a lot of people there last night so we broke it up into different rooms. Everyone met in the kitchen periodically to devour some yummy peanut butter brownies or nosh on some good eats. They were noisy in the other room but we maintained our game very strategically. My brother rubbed it in about the blog and how I kind of picked on Nair butt, so for him I will share my most embarrassing moment.
As a nurse, doing cauterization on some women came be a real big pain. Girls, you need to keep muffy trimmed. It allows for a more sterile and easier job when things are clean. Well, I practice what I preach. One evening prior to my 12 hour shift, I showered and shaved. The shave part is where I got into trouble. I was in a hurry. Girls if you are going to shave those special places make sure to take your time. I nicked the little man in the boat. I bled like a stuffed pig.
I had to hold pressure for quite a while which made me late for my charge nurse shift at the hospital. I finally arrived and had to explain to one of my better friends who was the other charge on duty, what had kept me from being there on time. I asked her not to share what had happened due to my embarrassment. I was already walking funny. She chased me around all night teasing and laughing at me. She had torn an eraser off of a pencil and kept throwing it right in front of me asking if there was something I was missing. I have to admit it was pretty funny. Just to let you know if you have klitty litter and you happen to bleed a lot, after pressure is applied to stop the bleeding, do not share the info with anyone.
The torture and fun continued all night till the bitter end. The next time I worked, doctors, nurses, and the rest of the staff were all to familiar with my plight. The pencil erasers ran amok. The laughter was ear deafening but I took it all in stride and survived. Watch out Nurse Payne your secret is safe with me.

Forget about Mama's Cheese!

This is my whine blog today, so please forgive me in advance. I have been building a web page and my PC was in the late stages of life. I had a new delivered Thursday. I have so much info on the old PC and no D drive to get it off so have been scrambling and trying to find places to put things to add to my new PC. You know I need all of that stuff and I need to have them. Well, I apparently am not as computer literate as I thought, I lost gobs of stuff and am having to find everything all over again. Hubby has been helpful in setting up the new PC and running to another room when he finds me about ready to blow up. Thanks Ker bear for all of your help and the new PC. Grumble, Grumble and a few choice words under my breath. Sassy, my older boxer , is on Lasix and has to pee every ten minutes and keeps scratching my arm to go out. I do not feel like I am getting anywhere fast. Rocks, my 125 pound, BDWD(big dumb white dog) boxer, just keeps looking up at me as if to say, mommy I think you have lost your mind and please don't kick me as you run out of the room to potty Sassy. I have game night at the Mama's with my family tonight so maybe that will help my attitude. I also will be going to brunch with one of the funniest persons that I have been so inclined to meet and call my friend today. Maybe by tomorrow I will be back on my game but for now Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Jules is nuts, How about you!!

Grandma got her Foot Ripped Off

My grandmother was one of the most wonderful people you could ever come across. She was kind, gentle, and always there with a hug. Grandma was your best friend that you could tell anything to. She felt obliged to share with me also. I will never forget her sitting with me having lemonade and telling me she was worried about not being able to please Grandpa in bed. My goodness, they were in their late seventies or early eighties, I never would have thought they were still happy in the sack. The vision that gave me was frightful and funny at the same time.
She was a baker. Her homemade cinnamon buns put Cinnabon's to shame. We all try to duplicate them and my dearly departed brother Jim came the closest. She baked wedding cakes for people without charging. I can remember her taking the whole dining room table to make her icing roses. I was totally in awe of her skill. The women never even used a recipe. I can't forget to mention her homemade noodles or chocolate cake. Oh my!!
As grandma got older, she started to forget things. It was very frustrating for her at first, more frustrating for my grandfather, who didn't understand, but the mad cow started to take over. They did okay for a while in the big old farm house where they raised their kids. When we would go to visit, like always she was the best hostess, telling about the daily happenings in her life.
Grandma had fallen and broken her hip, as we knew from grandpa. Grandma's story was a little different. She said she couldn't get up to walk because her foot had got ripped off by a piece of farm machinery. My mother and aunt were in the background laughing so hard at the story. It was a very vivid story but my mother and aunt needed to be punished for finding humor in this sad situation of grandma not knowing what had happened to her. I gave them the evil eyes to make them stop. The evil eye only made them giggle harder.
Little did I know at that time that was just nervous laughter, I hope. For the time would come all to soon where for her and my grandfathers safety we would have to put her in a nursing home. She would get up on her ripped off foot and start a meal on the stove and then just walk away. Three fires before we were all convinced it was time. The old farmhouse was never the same without the warmth and thoughtfulness of my grandma. Sunday dinners and Christmas were amiss without her baking and stories. I miss you grandma and thank you for making my life special. Until we meet again.

Who Moved Mom's Cheese

The Drama Mama used to tell a story about the girl at school who put her lunch with Limburger cheese on the radiator at school and how the smell was horrific. They all had to sit in the classroom and smell the stench. She said it didn't go away for days. Well Angel and I moved all of mom's cheese this weekend and did it stink.
We have decided to either get her a shock collar like you use for the dogs, to prevent her from leaving the house or getting into her mail without help or move in with her. She doesn't want anyone to move in with her so I guess it is the shock collar. Mom has fibromyalgia and rheumatoid arthritis. I am sure she has fibro fog which is just a tired brain from fibromyalgia. We are collectively calling it the mad cow disease.
We have gone in and looked at all of her accounts, paper work, and organized it, closed it and opened new ones. We weren't happy to leave well enough alone and reorganized her whole living space. We will be going out to purchase her shock collar this coming weekend. No animals will be hurt in this endeavor.
Our only concern at this point with the scammed drama mama with mad cow is that she will lose her way in the house. Hopefully, we can keep her on a short leash and safe from all the harm doers out there. Hopefully, the mad cow will not prevent her from finding safety in her own home. Until next weekend I hope the cheese doesn't stink to much.

I Am Glad

I am glad I grew up in an age where we had no PCs, cell phone's, texting, one TV for all, and calculator's.

I am glad we learned to talk to people face to face. How else would you read there expressions and know if they needed a hug by just looking into there eyes.

I am glad we learned to use the library for information. While using the old fashioned way of looking up books through the card file, we became organized.

I am glad we had one TV since we learned to use our imaginations by play. We learned the value of sharing and family time.

I am glad I learned to add, subtract, multiply, and divide without a calculator. I can walk through any store and figure out how much I have before getting to the counter and not being embarrassed because I have more than I can pay for.

I know our parents had it worse when they had to walk three miles to school in the snow but I think this round of kids have it a lot worse that us and our parents. They are missing the boat on a lot of interaction and communication skills. They don't know how to play together without total competition. They couldn't organize themselves out of a wet paper bag. God forbid the cell phone calculator went out, they can not even due math. Can they sound out a word? Can the read if they didn't memorize that word in class?

I am mad at our generation for not seeing that we had it good. We always tried to do better for our kids. We did have it good and it would have been good for them too.

I hope they take the initiative to keep learning and start playing together as a team. I hope they see that there childhood lives were pretty good but turn time backwards with there kids by getting the TVs out of there bedrooms, no calculator's, cellphones, family time, and just go to the library to search books the old fashioned way.

I pray for our children since they will have our lives in there hands in a few years.

The Tattle Tell

A long time ago in a far away place, when parental corporate punish was in place, there was a tattle tell. All of the kids would have to sit at the table and wait for someone to crack and fess up to the dirty deed knowing that there would be severe consequences. We sit, we wait, and then the tattle tail cracks and spills their guts. Telling goes against the code of ethics discussed by the siblings. Punishment given, we are excused from the table. What to do now the code has been broke?? We plot further, of course, without the tattle tail baby, who didn't get his after the table incident. Humm, just beat him up...not enough. Tell on him for all the bad things he did...that makes us no better and would break our code. The fitting punishment came to one of us like a blinding light. We shall wait till the parental units go to bed, drag the blabber mouth down the stairs gagged and out the back door. We shall then take him to a tree and tie him there. The tree has to be far enough away from the house so the parents cannot here his screams for help. We tied him up and informed him if he tattled again and broke the code, there would be more severe punishment. After tied to the tree, most go back to bed, but a few go to the garage to have a celebrate our brilliance and kind of watch the kid from afar, after all there are lions, tigers, and bears out there. We celebrate the fact we are teaching the blabber mouth a lesson. We start to get tired so decide to go untie him knowing he will never tattle again. Would you? We all go to our beds and dream of days to come. No hard feelings or fouls, just love.

Where the Buffalo Roam..

Yesterday, while sorting out the mama drama, I was reminded of a camping trip to South Dakota as a child. We used to camp as children and it was great fun at all times. Poor mom still had to cook, clean, and micromanage her kids like normal, but we were all out in the fresh air seeing new things in the cheapest way possible. We would load up the old station wagon with all of our gear and the eight to go off and explore our magnificent country.
South Dakota stands out in the back of my mind as the most memorable, not because of Mt Rushmore or anything but for the things that happened on that trip. While camping, we had buffalo roaming through the campground. We thought this was great fun. Mom didn't think that was so much fun because after going to the bathroom and trying to come out, you guessed it, a buffalo was trying to come into the loo. She was stuck in the outdoor bathroom for an hour or so and lets not forget the heat or smell she had to endure.
We settle down to go to sleep in our eight man tent and a storm starts to brew. We all scramble to the station wagon for safety and watch the storm throughout the night. We watched every one's pots, pans, tents, and just about everything imaginable be lifted in 65 mile an hour winds, swirl around us. The station wagon was trying to be comforting by rocking us through the storm. We and everyone else survived that night and had a lost and found game the next day. It was great fun picking things up from the storm and putting them in a pile for the adults to sort over.
That was the vacation I learned Elax was not a chocolate bar. On the way home, I found the first aid kit filled with yummy chocolate. Of course, being a little sneaky and not wanting to share my chocolate find with the rest of my brothers and sisters, ate it all. Needless to say the gut cramps were overwhelming and I wanted to stop every two minutes to have some Hershey squirts. My loving father didn't have that kind of time to get home from the vacation so mom and him rigged a coffee can for me to poo in all the way home. I not only learned that Elax was not chocolate, but had to learn to balance on a coffee can in a moving car while all of my brothers and sisters got to watch. I am sure the smell was not all that pleasant for us but that was before air conditioning in the car so at least the windows were down. I am very selective about when and where I go to the potty to this day. I wonder why. Too my parents and siblings, I am sorry for the smell and wished I would have shared my chocolate.

Momma Drama

Yes, our beloved, trusting mother got scammed. Please advise all of your elderly trusting parents or grandparents to beware. There are people out there that will take advantage of the elderly crowd and play on their trusting nature. You see they don't understand that in this computer age everybody has all of your information and bad people use that to make there money.
Yesterday, while napping peacefully in my bed, Angel called from work in a panic, stating that Mom was on her way to meet two men because she won a lot of money but they needed her to moneygram $6500 so it could be delivered to her home. I fly out the door, ugly hair and all, race to an outskirt town of Indy to save the mama. One sister and niece were sent to Mom's home for safety. Of course, traffic was in the way so one sister called 911 and let them know what was going on. The police intercepted mama at the Wallyworld with another elderly man sending money to of all people, Andy Taylor (from Mayberry) in Canada. Well, $13,000 later, mama still doesn't have her prize and I am not so sure she is convinced through the bank and police that it was a fraud.
Robert Peterson or whoever you are, watchout, you silver tongued ....we will be actively seeking you and all of your like to save the next poor nonsuspecting soul.

The Family that Plays Together ....

I don't think you are ever to old to play. The day you stop playing is the day you die. My family and I still play, while others are amazed at our closeness. We still get together for game nights. Mom's choice of play is hearts. She is evil and no one wants to sit next to her. I don't mind, it is just a challenge. I practice playing hearts on the computer in hopes of being a winner sometime. Sad that I can beat the computer but not my family.
Well maybe now that we are a little bit older it gets gassy in the room but that is just more entertainment. You know, gas, gas it must pass, through your mouth or out your ...... Mar is the queen at this moment with Eric coming in a close second. Rob used to be horrified by our actions but now just sits and shakes his head. I have taught all the kids how to belly burp. I prefer not to pass gas from the bottom but from the top. If you do a good deep belly burp, it will also smell horrid.
I love our get togethers and wished they could be weekly. Maybe we should put a little more of an effort and instead of monthly at least biweekly. You know our family that plays together might need to be thrown under a bus by some but we all find us very entertaining..

V-Day is Coming

What are you getting for valentines day? I hope my is as thoughtful and fulfilling as one of my past gifts from Mr. Man. Kerry took a beating from friends and family for that gift but my man knows me. I am a vacuum connoisseur. He gave me the pretty purple Dyson for valentines day. Oh those wonderful carpet lines after vacuuming, how it warms the cockles of my heart. I had a Kirby and it was pretty heavy to carry up and down the stairs. I have three floors so it was a pain. He must have thought that it was a pain that I would ask him to do the carrying because I have the new lighter weight vacuum with attachments on board. I can even vacuum the stairs as I take it up. I did the Kirby challenge when I first received my most revered prize. I vacuumed my rug like the Kirby dealer did when they were trying to sell me there product after I used my old vacuum. Yes the Kirby won in 2000 with dirt on its filter to show how gross my old vacuum was. I ran the Kirby on my rug and then my Dyson. It was disgusting what the Kirby left behind. The Kirby got kicked to the curb and now I am in Dyson love. I find my husband to be the most romantic man ever for thinking of me in a way that would satisfy me year round. For all of you naysayers, try making carpet lines with your vacuum.

My Bladder has Fallen

Don't sneeze while you are standing without crossing your legs. It is true my bladder has fallen and won't get back up. Now I know how men feel every time they go to the bathroom. I feel some guilt for not pursuing the peedee pad idea I had about twenty years ago. I thought I could market a pad for men for there underwear to prevent the last few drops from being seen. You know the old saying, no matter how much you shake and dance, the last few drops go in your pants. I guess finding this out just goes along with the lone gray pubic hair. I am aging faster than a speeding bullet. I was a good girl and practiced my Keogel exercises whule driving my car. Squeeze, hold, release.... I'm not that much overweight. Why has it fallen? How soon before I have to wear diapers? I just went through the change and don't want to where pads again. What next?? Well I am not giving up, there has to be a cure out there for aging somewhere. I always said I was going to grow old gracefully, but I have changed my mind, I am going out kicking and screaming. Are ya with me girls? Oh and by the way, I will know when you are in the fallen club by the way you start to laugh, sneeze, or cough by the crossing of your legs prior to prevent leakage. I will be in your corner and privately give you a queenly wave.

"It is Potty Time"

I have the great pleasure to be a part of Gracie's life. She is a neighbors child who is 19 months old. She squeals with delight when I come in. Gracie calls me GG as do all the other rug rats in my life. I don't know if I could love this little imp anymore. Well, we are collectively trying to potty train Gracie. You know it takes a village to raise a child, especially one as precosious as our amazing Grace. We have tried all the stratigies we all know. Mommie peeing on Gracie's potty chair (too funny), doing a potty dance, singing potty time, time on the potty with reading, putting her hands in water,running water, big girl panties, and ect... Of course, Gracie doesn't want to have anything to do with it. Till last night anyway,Gracie decided to potty her baby. Her baby had success on Gracie's potty chair and now is potty trained. The baby also got the potty dance and plenty of hugs and kisses by Gracie. Gracie still isn't potty trained but the baby doll is!! Help from one village member to another, any idea's?? Almost exacerbated GG!

My Pity Parties

I think we all have them but mine are definitely special to me. When I am feeling like I am in need of my private pity party, I start a hot bubble bath. I run and get my beverage of choice, usually red zinfandel wine, candles to light, and some classical music. I run back upstairs without so much as talking with anyone in my way and strip down after locking the door. They all seem to know when not to bother me due to my private pity party time. I light the candles, pour my first glass, start the music, and put my tiara on. You all should know that I am a princess and should be treated as such even if it is by me. Into the tub I go for a couple of hours. I daydream about what went wrong and what I could have done to stop it before making me piteous. Sometimes I allow myself a tear or two. The wine usually kicks in about this time and I start to giggle about all the bubbles and the crown on my head. I come back to reality and know that my problems have never been more than I can handle and I enjoy a good challenge. I get out and dry off and wrap myself with a new attitude. I realize that self pity is a terrible thing but I don't want to give up my tiara or bubble baths and it is a great excuse to enjoy my time alone. Try it, you"ll like it!!

Live Like You mean It, Friends

Friends are the family that we choose for ourselves Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming -- WOW -- What a Ride!

-- Anonymous

Parrot Lip

My best friend, Vixen, is one of the Good News Gals but has had some trauma in her life as of late. We have been friends since the eigth grade. I can remember spending the night and her having to rake the orange shag carpet. Isn't that a blast from the past. For you that are not as old, we used to have longer carpet than we have now and had to rake it to make it look good, even with our Electrolux and Kirbey vaccuums. My blessing and prayers go out to Vixen right now, as I wish all would send some.
We have played together for at least 35 years and one time stands out. We had been out and about and one of our mutual friends had been drinking a little Gran Marnier. Gran Ma is of the devil or so it made Sue. We figured we needed to take her back to my house and sober her up. Vixen and Sue arrived earlier than I. Sue in her drunken state decided it was a good idea to play with my parrot. Bozo was a friendly red lore amazon that loved people. He sat on my head a lot and traveled around. Well Sue was not ready to take him for a trip through the house like me. Boz jumped on top of her head and Sue panicked. Sue turned frantic, making the parrot frantic. Boz got wound up in her hair. When I walked in, Vixen was trying to diffuse the situation and take Bozo out of Sue's hair only to get bit on the lip. I have to get the bird out, calm Boz, calm Sue, and contemplate on what to do with Vixen's lip, oh, and I forgot, clean up the blood. The icepack came out and upon looking at her lip, I decided to take her to the emergency room. We get to the first hospital and they do not want to touch her due to it being facial and scarring. We had to go to another hospital with a facial surgeon standing by. We are filling out paper work and out comes her smart nurse and in a very loud voice, calling for "parrot lip". The whole waiting room with the nurse bust into laughter. Okay, I laughed too. We got her fixed up but if you look real close she is wearing a love bite from Bozo and yes we all laugh about it now, not just me.