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I’m going to keep doing these as long as I have to make myself laugh.
It may be a while…
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At this point, it can’t hurt.
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As long as you don’t take me with you, but that’s the problem isn’t it?
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I feel like that’s where I am right now. All our well laid plans for retirement out the window.
WTF sums it up perfectly.
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With thanks to the ever charming Kenny Nines at https://theterribleidealist.wordpress.com/ who alerted me to the existence of sequels, I bring you Gulp.
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Another masterpiece by the delightfully quirky and sometimes bizarre author Mary Roach.
When Kenny told me there were other books like Stiff? I was all in! And ordered four from Amazon knowing I would blog the highlights here.
So let’s dive into the wacky and wonderful world of the human digestive tract shall we?
This book comes with a bit of a warning…
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Poopreport.com
If ever there was a website to avoid at all costs? That would be it .
While this book focuses on the digestive tract, it goes delightfully off course on tangents of smell, taste, flatulence, food culture and the occasional substitute.
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Hair is kosher.
You heard it here first.
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Human hairballs?
Damn, I love these books!
Much attention is paid to food. How we eat, why we eat, and what we eat. Food is cultural and while roasted bat may not be on your dinner table tonight, rest assured it’s on someone’s somewhere.
In Mary’s travels while researching this book, she met an Innuit man who served her Muktuk.
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Raw chunks of Narwahl flesh and skin. She assures us it was delicious and very nutritious, but I think I’d almost prefer the bat.
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Pig balls, coming to a restaurant near you!
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I didn’t, but now I do.
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And damn, judging from my very first attempt?
I rock!
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Considering I had no earthly idea what I was doing, I am proud of myself.
In case you don’t already know Wordle is the new game that’s taken over the internet. It’s web based, not an app… and you can only play once a day. So while I think it’s going to be addicting, there’s no danger of wasting countless hours staring at a screen.
The premise is simple. The daily puzzle is one 5 letter word and you have six chances to guess it. Everyone gets the same word so it’s become something of a world wide competition.
Sound simple? Trust me, it’s not.
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While I lucked out on my first puzzle and guessed it in three, the next day I didn’t guess it all and was extremely frustrated. (I will henceforth hate the word knoll and it’s dastardly kn consonant combination.)
So Google “Wordle… A Daily Word Game” and give it a go.
And let us know how you did.
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My husband started working from home in March of 2020, you know… the year when life as we knew it ended. This means he took over my (always neat, clean and organized) office.
The husband?
Not so neat, clean and organized.
In case you didn’t know, he is the King of Post Its.
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Files? Who needs ‘em when you have open wall space.
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The overflow covered my printer…
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And the top of my A through F collection of vinyl.
Yes, my old record albums are crated alphabetically.
I told you I was organized.
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You know I enjoy these things.
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New Year’s resolutions. Everyone makes them, no one keeps them.
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I don’t know about you, but I could definitely use a better year.
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Her phone knows her too well.
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Finally, a resolution worth keeping.
And lastly, there’s mine.
A resolution from my much loved and loyal iPhone.
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Well, damn.
I wasn’t expecting that.
😳
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It’s winter, so humor me.
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I’ve only been back to my hometown in New Jersey once in the last 38 years. Why so long between visits? Because as much as my husband loves to travel, New Jersey is never his vacation destination of choice. Go figure.
But in the fall of 2014 after my mother passed, I made the decision to spread half of her ashes at Sandy Hook Beach…. the seashore she loved.
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It was a bittersweet trip for me, filled with childhood memories and many, many tears.
We spent a week in and around my hometown and while some things had changed, I was amazed at how much had remained exactly the same. We walked through the park where I played as a child..
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Wandered around the downtown area…
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Where, admittedly… some buildings had gotten brighter.
We ate in the same restaurants I did when I was young, visited my elementary school and the railroad station where I caught the train to NYC.
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We even strolled among the deer at the cemetery searching for my great grandfather’s grave.
And after putting it off as long as I could, it was time to visit my old house. I was reticent to do this, knowing I would probably break down at the mere sight of it.
We strolled the neighborhood past my Aunt Florence’s house…
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And then past my grandmother’s house.
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It was a beautiful old place when I grew up….
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But as I stood in front of it with my old photo album, choking up with memories… I was awed at the magic the current owners had wrought.
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Long story short… the owners saw me, took pity on my emotional state and invited us in for the grand tour. I wish I’d taken pictures of the interior ( it was lovely! ) but didn’t want to look some crazed stalker (as opposed to the crazed blogger who would later post about it).
I was a bit of a mess at that point…. memory lane can be a sad place when all your loved ones are gone. But we soldiered on down the road to the house where I grew up.
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The front looked relatively the same…
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But when we turned the corner and I peered around back, everything had changed.
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Two large additions had been built which swallowed our back lawn, the glassed in porch with the beautiful polished slate floor had been removed, the brick patio torn up and my father’s lovingly tended rose garden had been turned into a playground.
My husband asked if I wanted to knock on the door, but I couldn’t. To be honest, I could hardly breathe at that point.
And though the old saying ‘you can’t go home again’ is trite? It’s also very, very true.
I had to walk. And made it as far as the little park down the road that runs along the river…
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While parts of it were overgrown…
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I managed to find a bench in the same spot as the bench where my father and I used to sit and feed the ducks when I was a child.
It was there that I completely broke down and sobbed for my recently lost mother and my long lost father.
I knew going back to my hometown would be hard, but damn. I was an emotional wreck the whole time.
So tell me, have you ever gone home again?
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Three grey squirrels were braving the elements for a nosh during our last snow storm.
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This fellow was first to the tray feeder, scrambling up the pole and settling in to munch.
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Squirrel number two had a harder time with the slippery pole….
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But after a few comical attempts… made it to the tray of treats.
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Squirrel #1 was not happy to share and a major scuffle broke out, but it was over quickly and a truce was called.
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All was well until squirrel #3 showed up.
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He climbed the pole 4 times and was booted off in no uncertain terms.
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Two is company… and apparently three is one squirrel too many.
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Feeling the need to undermine democracy? I’ve got just the thing.
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Fabricate your very own conspiracy theory while scrambling the morning eggs.
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And if it keeps you from spreading more insane crap on the internet?
All the better. Because I’m really tired of the crazy.
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Enjoy!
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It seems that little red bitch has given up the Barn Mahal and moved in even closer to yours truly.
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Lately she’s spending all her time in, on and around our back deck grill…. and I fear another nest has been built.
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This does not bode well for future cookouts.
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Although…
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I’ve heard people do eat roast squirrel….
😈
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If someone could explain the recent internet obsession with poo, I’d be obliged.
It’s everywhere I look these days and each product seems to get progressively worse. Case in point?
Sherbet the Shitting Flamingo.
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Whaaaat?
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This begs the question… what happens if Sherbet doesn’t make it to the toilet on time?
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Look how gleefully this child feeds the bird. You can almost feel her excitement at the result….
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Gone. In a see through commode.
I’m sure it will be a best seller.
Sigh.
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River's world..... 