I found it last week and it isn’t half bad. Apparently smashing citrus fruit and mixing it with vodka is a Maryland crab bake tradition.
This next one is all I’m going to say about the travesty happening in Texas. Because common sense is common sense, and if men were the ones who got pregnant? There would be clinics on every street corner.
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Have you ever felt like you just aren’t accomplishing enough?
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There.
I feel better already.
And finally, it’s never too early to start that Christmas knitting.
But no, sadly the grape didn’t make it into my top 3.
This was an easy pick.
#1. Books.
Life isn’t worth living if I can’t read. I’m voracious. How much do I love to read? Think Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man. I get equally as twitchy when bookless.
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#2. Cheese.
I can’t imagine not eating cheese. A sharp Vermont cheddar? A rich and creamy Camembert? A delightfully pungent blue? No…. I could give up a lot things, but cheese isn’t one of them.
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#3. Cats
I write this with Lord Dudley Mountcatten sitting happily at my feet, purring contentedly just to be near. (and no he didn’t threaten to vomit in my shoes if I answered differently)
While I love all creatures and have had housefuls of assorted pets, there’s something about persnickety, attitude laden felines that calls to me.
Is it their independence? Maybe.
Their cunning? Perhaps.
But when a cat chooses you as their person? You know you’ve been given a special gift.
I can’t say this with any certainly, but I’m guessing the demise of our cedar tree was woodchuck related.
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It stood in that corner for almost 20years with no issue and then, wham! It was dead. Upon removal we found this…
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A hole, next to the trunk. And on further examination…
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A hump of dirt with a strategically placed pile of poo. On the other side of the hump?
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Another hole, which meant woodchuck tunnel. I figured they must have destroyed the roots of the tree with their digging, but in actuality the tunnel goes under these other bushes that weren’t affected at all.
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So it’s a mystery, but either way? I’m left with an empty space and a stump.
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Because while my husband loves to cut things down with his chainsaw? He could care less about the mess he leaves behind.
I’ve been known to pepper my speech with the occasional four letter word… but by far, the worst one to ever cross my lips was diet.
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I was a normal sized child, a small teenager and a slim but curvy young adult. 110 lbs when I married my husband, and though I would positively kill for that figure today? Nature got in the way.
I gained a little weight at 35, but no problem. I hardly noticed it.
I gained a little weight at 40, and okay.. maybe I went up a size (or two).
But then I had a hysterectomy at 52 and gained a whole lotta weight. Being forced into menopause wrecked me and my body was no longer my own. No matter what type of diet or exercise I tried, the weight stayed on.
Next up was Covid lockdown with my husband teleworking and me cooking 24/7, so yeah. Another 10lbs.
And if that wasn’t bad enough? I blew my knee out last October. Damaged my MCL and ended up with a deep root radial meniscal tear… the worst kind. The kind that doesn’t heal. The kind that keeps you off the treadmill and plonks you on the couch. 10 more pounds and I’ve just about lost the will to live. Yoga pants are my friend and my clothes are silently mocking me from the closet.
I’m tired.
Tired of being overweight.
Tired of Covid ruining our travel retirement plans.
Tired of killer knee pain every single day.
Tired of the ugliness in the world.
Tired of the political and cultural divide in this country.
But most of all?
I’m tired of diets.
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So to Hell with it. I’m happily married and don’t need to impress anyone. My health is good despite the ##lbs I’ve put on since I hit 50.
Halloween is coming and the holiday themed products are popping up everywhere. While most of them are harmless, I did run across one that made me shiver.
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Uh….. what?
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I’m not sure eating their owner’s body parts is the type of behavior we should be encouraging in our cats.
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Lord Dudley is already pissed we strap him into a harness…. I don’t need him getting any ideas.
And I know it’s too early for Christmas…. ( Yes people, it’s too damned early! Shove that elf back in the closet. Or better yet, burn it. I hate that little bastard. ) but I may need to buy this ornament.
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
