Are we doing this now?



As I was thrift store shopping with a friend this week, I ran cross an item that shouldn’t surprise me.




Because yes, we probably have become this lazy.

Now granted, we all have our moments.




But if the day comes when it requires too much effort to hold your own phone?




P.S.  It should be noted that when I first saw read the box I thought…

#1.  It was made by a brand named Absurdo… which seemed entirely plausible.


#2.   That it would only rotate your neck if your neck was soft…. and I wondered what kind of neck I had, why I needed product assistance to rotate it, would said rotation hurt, did it come in different sizes for different sized necks like football players and giraffes, and how I would go about finding out.

Because sometimes, my mind just goes to odd places and I can’t get it back.

You’re never too old to learn…. Chakra Toning.



It’s that time again.




Maine continuing education says tone up your Chakra!



Oops… my bad. Not that kind of toning.


Toning for Chakras and Wellbeing

Your voice is one of the most powerful tools of all to reset your entire being to natural healthy patterns. One of the most powerful ways of using the voice to stimulate healing is called toning. In this class you will be introduced to a number of different systems for toning your chakras. We will complete one full sequence together, it is simple, easy and really feels good. No discounts.


Apologies to all the new age spiritual healers out there, but this sounds like utter nonsense.

Even the description is lame. “… simple, easy and really feels good.”

Well I’ve got news for you, so do Jello shots and I don’t need to pay anyone to teach me how to do them. Tip, swallow, repeat. Easy peasy.

Granted my Chakra is probably not up to date….




Or properly aligned.




But to be honest, I really don’t care.

Heck you can do a quick tune up online for free….



Why pay for a class?

Besides, I tone my voice at home all the time. Why, just the other day I chanted Nooooooo! for a full two minutes when I realized we were out of Klondike Bars.

It was quite cleansing.

Not to mention cheaper.

1 session, Thursday Nov. 15  6:00-8:00pm

$35 non refundable.



Yes, this is really happening.



Not much makes me do a double take these days. In case you haven’t noticed?

People be crazy.

But this local story was worth a second look.

Giving new meaning to the term baked lobster.

Yes, there is a woman in Maine who owns a restaurant.

Yes, she serves lobster.

And yes, she has decided to get them high before cooking them to alleviate their pain.




You can now request your lobster to be sedated with pot before he goes in the…. well,





I’m told the cooked lobster tastes better after the smoking, but then again…. doesn’t everything?



So in closing, may I just say….

#1.   It’s official, I’ve now seen everything.

And #2.  Speaking from the vast experience of an extremely misspent youth, there is no amount of weed, no matter how potent… that will lessen the effect of being thrown into a vat of boiling water.

(And if you can prove me wrong on that one, please PM me immediately.)

The project turns a corner…



Alternative title:  If we’d known it would be this much work, we never would have started.

A word of advice from a blogger who’s sore, covered in paint and has splinters where one should never have splinters..



Don’t remodel that old rotting garage. Let it fall to pieces on it’s own, bury the refuse and park on the street….. because what started out as “Let’s throw some vinyl siding on that puppy”  has turned into  “Oh, holy crap… we have to replace that too?”




We’ve been working all weekend long, every weekend since mid August and never seem to get anywhere. The paper walls didn’t help, but neither did all the rotten studs and trim…. and once you start replacing a little, you have to replace a lot.




So the woodshed has new walls.




And we turned another corner.




And ripped off more trim…




And cursed the previous homeowner who used rusty railroad spikes instead of nails to Hell and back numerous times.




Then the husband said, “We might as well put a new door in here too.”

(At which point I started cursing him to Hell and back under my breath.)




Have you ever tried putting a brand new door on a 1970’s sloping, non standard, off center, dirt floored storage room?  Well, don’t. It’s not nearly as much fun as it sounds.

After two full hours of putting it in… and out… and in again…. I realized the husband is not highly proficient at cutting angles.




But did I say anything? No. It will be covered in fascia anyway, and he probably heard my eyes rolling from across the yard…. so I’m good.

By Sunday evening we’d replaced walls and studs and trim and a door. We’d put up starter strip, J channel, corner posts, F channel, soffit, fascia, siding and sill trim.




We were tired and sore.





Oh, stuff it Morgan.

It may not look perfect, but it looks better. And right now?

Better is just fine with me.

Can I take a serious moment here?





It’s a rarity, I know… but bear with me.

With all the attention that jerkweed weather reporter pretending to be caught in gale force winds received, it seems the blogosphere has forgotten that people are still suffering the effects of Hurricane Florence, and it’s far from funny.

We lived in Jacksonville, North Carolina for 17 years and rode out some terrible storms. They’re frightening, life changing and nothing to take lightly. We have a lot friends still in the area and thankfully they all evacuated, but I’ve been getting texts and picture updates from some of them and I wanted to share ….

This is I-40…




Most of our friends can’t get back into town.

Because this is what happens when you try to drive through high water.




In all the years we lived there, we never saw flooding like this.




The entire town is literally under water.




Thank God for the Marines..




A neighbor took this picture of my girlfriend’s house.




And the courthouse where she works.




I hear Wilmington is completely cut off as well.




There’s no power, no water, no gas and some of the cell towers have gone down.




Now I like a good laugh as much as the next person, probably more. So yes, laugh at the idiot reporter trying to make a name for himself.

But don’t yell fake news at me. This is real for a lot of people we love, and that nimrod shouldn’t be the only part of the story we’re talking about.



Okay, I know.






A little chicken history.


You may have noticed I have a glamour chicken as my avatar.  (Yes, there is such a thing.  We’re gorgeous and we know it )  But in case you wondered why….

It started back in 2010 when our new farming neighbors got a few chickens. I’d never spent much time around that particular bird, I mean come on… I’m originally from New Jersey. The only chicken I knew came in a bucket with biscuits and slaw.




But they looked so cute pecking around the yard that I started visiting them, and feeding them, and photographing them and generally making feathered friends. So when our neighbors wanted to go out of town for Christmas that year? Of course I opened my big fat mouth and said, Sure! We’ll take care of them.

Did I mention it was Christmas time?

In Maine…?




I had to drive down the road, then down their driveway and then down an ever narrowing path to find them. In the snow. In 12 degree temperatures.




Their coop was actually a little house, but damn.



Warm and cozy it wasn’t.




There were bags of feed and corn in the building, but no water so I had to lug gallons twice a day.




And look up.




(Always remember to look up if you don’t want a head full of chicken poo.)

I enjoyed the temporary chicken duty and would pull up a hay bale and sit happily with the little cluckers for a spell every morning and late afternoon…  thinking,  I want chickens of our own! They’re so cute!




And fun to watch!”



But remember I said “we” would take care of them?




The “we” kicked in when December brought a snow storm that made driving down their unplowed road and path impossible. And oh yeah, the wind chills were 17 below.




That’s when the “we” turned into my husband…. with the “me” part taking pictures from our kitchen window.

He did it, but he wasn’t happy. And he let me know how unhappy every time I mentioned getting chickens of our own from then on. That’s what comes from being married so long… they know you too well. Yours truly isn’t going outside in a 17 below wind chill for anyone… cute, feathered or otherwise. So while chicken duty continued whenever our neighbors went out of town, my dream of a backyard coop died that day.

But back to the avatar explanation – in the Multiply days, I would blog chicken pictures.




And riveting chicken videos like this:



And somehow, it just became a thing.

I was the crazy chickenless chicken lady.  People sent me chicken memes, chicken poems, chicken calendars, chicken hats, chicken socks….




Chicken purses….




And chicken shoes.  (Admit it, you want a pair.)

If it was chicken related, I got it.

Chicken duty evolved and expanded over the years….. the few birds became a flock, and the flock became a swarm and then it got out of hand.

But that’s for another blog.








The blogging life.


I had lunch with a friend the other day and we were in the middle of an epic catch up session when I mentioned I’d found a new blog site and was really enjoying it.

Me –  “It’s a large platform with lots of amazing writers.”

Her –  “Blogging?  Yeah… I’ve never understood the appeal.”

Me –




Her –  “It seems so totally self absorbed. I mean, what do you blog about?”

Me –   *sputtering*  *turning red*


( I may have screamed. I’m not sure.)

But it got me thinking, what do I blog about? Right now, it’s whatever nonsense is floating around in my head and needs to get out. That long fuzz covered blue thingy in the back of the fridge that may or may not have started life as a pickle? Sure! The old lady at Goodwill who had a vibrator in her cart because she thought it was a portable hand blender? Absolutely! But it wasn’t always that way.

No… back in the early days of Yahoo 360 and Multiply, it was personal.  I ranted about family, and relationships, and mother in laws from Hell. I had a small community of close friends who knew (almost) everything that was happening in my life. And then I got burned. I was posting about a particularly horrid SIL… okay, I may have called her  a hag. But she was. And still is. And crikey… she wasn’t supposed to be reading it! But she did and ….



Yeah, the proverbial excrement hit the rotating blade.

See…. I’ve always kept my blogging life and real life separate. The husband is an uber-private person and hates it if I tell my best friend anything… no less people on line that we’ve never actually met. So what did the hag do? She found my online blog presence, read every single post I’d ever made and left a seriously hateful comment on the last one. (At 3:30 in the morning no less. Clearly it was a riveting read.) And no… we haven’t spoken since. That was 8 years ago.

So I shut it down. No more public access, no more personal details.

And then it became a “thing” in our marriage. You know,  the “things”.  Those topics that no matter how many years you spend together, they’ll always cause friction. I mean geesh, I wasn’t spilling racy secrets from the bedroom….. and I won’t no matter how much you beg me.  (You’re welcome.) …. I was joking about the crap he accumulates in the cellar! Where’s the harm in that? But I got tired of the snide, “Oh, I suppose you’re going to blog about that now” comments every time something happened, so after my first site died a slow death?  I told him I was done blogging.

But I wasn’t.

So yes…. you lot are my guilty, secret pleasure. (How pathetic is that? Nothing dark and twisted, just you. Sigh…)



There, I said it.

I blog on the down low. And I keep it light… because for me, it’s always been about entertainment. I know there are a lot of inspirational blogs about overcoming hardships, heartfelt blogs about love and loss, fashion blogs, cooking blogs, gardening blogs…. and I enjoy them all. Even the occasional blog about running. (Do you have any idea how many of them there are? What’s wrong with people? Don’t they own comfortable chairs…?)  I mean… I’m diverse damn it! I can read about other people running even if I personally feel like  –




That’s the wonderful thing about blogging! It’s unique to each and every person who does it…. and if you’re lucky enough to find bloggers of similar interests and styles?  Who laugh with you.. and occasionally at you?

You’ve found your tribe.

For me, they’re usually snarky, smart mouthed, fringe dwellers who are just a little bit bent. Because… well, I’ve been told I’m a little hard to take.



Shocking, I know.

But my husband has always felt the need to warn his co workers about me before we meet, so there must be something to it. I may look sweet, but my mouth does tend to get me in trouble when it gets going. And if I’m feeling comfortable enough around you to let the crazy out?


love memes for her and him - funny i love you memes


You’re my people.