Entering my 50’s, a hysterectomy forced menopause and long Maine winters have taken their toll and I swear I don’t even recognize myself when I look in a full length mirror.
Alright, yes.
Bacon may have had a little something to do with it.
So now I’m eating healthy.
I’ve given up bacon, and cheese, and gravy, and bread, and chocolate and all those other wonderful things that make life worth living.
I’m back on the treadmill for 2 or 3 sessions a day…. panting, sweating and realizing how horribly out of shape I’ve become.
And believe me when I say I hate exercising.
Really f*ing hate it.
I’m not enjoying the process, but I’m down 14 lbs…. and that’s rewarding.
What’s not rewarding is that I can’t even tell the difference. And that, my friends…. is a sure sign you’re overweight.
I mean damn… shouldn’t my clothes be falling off me by now?
It’s been 5 weeks of abstinence…
(No, not that kind. I’m overweight, not crazy.)
In a perfect world, I lose another 30lbs. But I’m not holding my breath for miracles. The older we get, the harder it is to lose and at this point I’d be happy to just fit into some of my old clothes again.
So, give a girl a hand. If you have any dieting tips or tricks? I’m all ears…
For those of you who were looking for the perfect stocking stuffer for Xmas this year?
Next… no tie shoelaces.
Because yes, apparently we really are that lazy.
On first glance this looked promising….
Until I remembered the best thing about making S’mores on a campfire is that you don’t have to clean up anything.
Can you imagine the mess that contraption would make in your oven? Melted chocolate and gooey marshmallow crystallizing and baking onto the racks?
Finally, I admit this last stupid product has infinite potential.
Now call me crazy, but a gentle reminder to change the toilet paper is not the first thing that came to mind when I thought of recording a message.
No…
I want more bang for my buck and was thinking more along the lines of the Tidy Bowl Man yelling “Incoming!”….. or an upper class British accent begging you not to make a second trip to the buffet at Taco Loco.
Ordering flowers over the phone for a friend who just had surgery down in North Carolina. I wanted a large, impressive arrangement and was very specific with my request. I said….
No carnation fillers.
All pink and purple.
An interesting vase… definitely no clear glass.
So what did they deliver for $160?
A clear glass vase, filled with carnations… and a few yellow roses and orange gerber daisies stuck in for no other reason than to piss me off.
$160 worth of everything I didn’t want!
I don’t like….
Ordering a pair of hard to find little batteries from Amazon that fit in an envelope.
And having it come in a box.
Talk about overkill.
I don’t like…
Reading Maine native Stephen King’s latest,
And realizing he’s lost his touch.
This new book? Meh…
Don’t bother.
I don’t like…
Buying a tin of Altoids to keep in my car,
Getting them home and realizing…
They’re slightly past their prime.
2009?
Damn. That’s worse than what I have in the back of my kitchen cabinet.
I don’t like….
My husband getting called into work on a weekend because,
Some idiot doesn’t know how to steer his hot air balloon.
The Liebster Award is an award that exists only on the internet and is given to bloggers by other bloggers. The earliest case of the award goes as far back as 2011. Liebster in German means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing, and welcome.
The award is a way to be discovered but also to connect and support the blogging community. A great idea in promoting your own blog and others. Originally it was given out to blogs with less than 2000 readers but this has slowly lowed as the reward has gained popularity. It is now only 200 readers or less. It’s really an arbitrary number. If you like helping other blogs out go ahead and do it regardless of its size.
With thanks to Rebecca Wallick at wildsensibility for the nomination….. ( I’m not sure sweetest and endearing are the first words people think of when my blog comes to mind, but hey. I’ll take praise where and when I can. )
If you love dogs, natural splendor and stunning scenic photographs, check out Rebecca’s page. She’s got them all in spades.
Onward!
You know the rules… I have to answer questions. Which I shall do with the utmost amount of seriousness.
1. What typically is the closest object on your right when you’re writing (not including a computer mouse)?
You’ll probably be sorry you asked that… but it’s a poop drone.
And yes, of course it flies.
2. What one-sentence bit of advice would you give to your 13-year-old self?
At 13… I was a shy little thing. Reticent to open my mouth or make my presence known. (Hard to believe, I know) So I would probably tell her…. Dance! Jump off that pier! Sing with the band! Say yes to all the adventures life lays before you and don’t worry so much about what other people think. By the time you’re sitting here blogging about it? It will be too late.
3. Describe your ideal writing space and place (assuming money isn’t an issue).
For me… that would be a treehouse.
A glam treehouse, with a frozen margarita machine and a never ending supply of tequila and limes. Surrounded by nature and the songs of birds, that’s where I’d like to be.
4. What is your most frequent photographic subject?
That changes depending on the season.. and my moods. Lately?
It’s a woodchuck who looks like Jabba the Hut.
5. Favorite quote?
“I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.”
With…. “I like to have a martini, Two at the very most. After three I’m under the table, after four I’m under my host.” coming in a close second.
Ole Dorothy Parker knew her stuff.
6. What does blogging (writing, and reading) add to your life?
A sense of connection. It’s like reaching my hand out across the globe and touching people I would never have otherwise met. (And by touching, I’m speaking metaphorically. Don’t call the vice squad.)
7. If you could choose to be any animal for a 24-hour period, which would you be and why?
A wombat.
And I have no idea why.
8. Do you have other creative outlets besides writing?
I used to draw. I used to write poetry. I used to make dried flower wreaths. I used to cross stitch. I used to stamp. I used to paint. I used to dry brush ceramics. I used to do a lot of things. Now… I just take crazy pictures and blog.
And drink.
I drink very creatively.
Amen, Tyrion. Amen.
Okay, now I’m supposed to nominate blogs I think you should discover and make them answer questions as well.
Of course, if you know me… you know my questions won’t be normal. Where’s the fun in that?
1. Acknowledge the blog which nominated you.
2. Answer the questions your nominator asked.
3. Nominate two to six other bloggers who might appreciate the boost.
4. Ask them several unique questions.
5. Let them know you have nominated them.
And answer these questions –
1. You’re a pigeon newly arrived in Hollywood. Who do you poop on first?
2. Donald Trump has been impeached. Mike Pence has been trampled to death at a gay pride parade. Nancy Pelosi has resigned her position and run off to Tahiti with a member of BTS. You’ve been chosen to be the next President of the United States. What’s your first executive order?
3. The Brussels Sprout is a much maligned ( and extremely gassy ) cruciferous vegetable. You run a PR firm and have just been hired to tweak it’s image. Go!
4. Your lifelong dream of being a stripper has come true. What’s your stage name?
5. Your cruise ship is sinking and you’ve scrambled onto a life raft only to realize it’s overloaded. What… or who… do you push overboard? A case of craft beer, your significant other, the oars, a beloved pet wombat, or the ship’s navigator ?
*Note – if you say beer or wombat, you are dead to me*
Yes, those really are the questions.
If you were expecting, “Name the most influential person in your life” or “What is your favorite memory of childhood” you’re reading the wrong blog.
We do things differently here.
Yes, I realize you can’t unsee that.
But if you’re struggling for a stripper name… feel free to be inspired.
For once, our small town’s Facebook page rose above the petty gossip and backstabbing and actually came in handy. Last night, along with the usual lost pig notices… there was a report of a dump truck flipping over, taking out a power line and closing the main road. This was helpful since my husband’s car had overheated and left him stranded on I-295. Knowing about the closure in advance saved me taking the out of the way detour.
Of course the page also had some other gems.
Rent a goat! There’s a start up sure to make a fortune.
Heck, they love to eat…
Are easy to transport….
And give great back massages.
How could you lose?
Then there was this:
Someone wants to cook pie for me?
That can’t be bad.
And finally, there was this heartfelt thank you note…
Moral of that story?
If you live in the country, always carry carrots and apples.
I learned a lesson the other day… the hard way. (If there’s any other way, I’ve yet to find it.)
In April I received a recall notice for Ethel. (Yes, my car’s name is Ethel)
No big deal, it was something about a brake light switch. I stuck the notice in the drawer thinking, yeah…I’ll have to make an appointment at the dealership sometime.
Which means I promptly forgot all about it.
Then two months ago, we were leaving our friend’s place at camp. They have the driveway from Hell… steep and unpaved. We were backing out, hit some loose gravel and bing! bam! boom! all my warning lights started flashing on the dash. ABS, Vehicle Dynamics Control, Hill Assist.
You name it, it was flashing.
I thought, oh hell… we knocked some silly computer module out of whack.
But the car drove perfectly fine and by the time we got home all the lights were out…. so I didn’t give it a second thought. Until this Monday when I went grocery shopping, pulled into the parking lot and shifted into park. Bing! Bam! Boom! all the warning lights flashed again.
Warning lights. What do I know about warning lights?
I mean heck, if they had useful ones….. it would make sense.
But these things were going off for absolutely no reason. Again, my only thought was… stupid computers.
Until I loaded all my groceries in the car, started it and couldn’t shift.
Nada. Nothing. Frozen in park.
Of course it was a hot day…. and of course ice cream was on sale so I’d bought 4 containers. As everything melted into soup, I fiddled and faddled and cursed and finally managed to get it in gear to drive home.
Where it froze in park again.
Moral of the story?
When the manufacturer sends you a recall notice? There’s a reason…. go have it taken care of.
It may just be a brake light switch, and they may assure you “only a small handful of vehicles have had serious issues”….. but if it’s one in three million?
Living in Maine affords it’s residents numerous opportunities to attend fabulous competitive events. There are lobster trap runs, belt sander races, frying pan hurls, skiing Santa races, rubber duckie races and pumpkin drops. We even host the North American Wife Carrying contest.
But this year I missed a new one.
I missed it!
The social event of the season…. and I missed it.
Who knew you could have so much fun with a zucchini?
Besides that guy.
And okay, maybe her.
But either way, I missed a stellar event and will have to be sure and mark my calendar for next year.
So the last time I did one of these quite a few people knew what I know, and that’s disappointing.
So I’m upping my game, reaching deep into the grey matter to find some heretofore unknown tidbits because….
Did you know….
Hedgehogs were called urchins in medieval times?
The first recorded use of the word “hedgehog” wasn’t until the 15th century.
Did you know…
In France you can marry a dead person?
Article 171 of the French civil code states, “The President of the Republic may, for grave reasons, authorize the celebration of the marriage where one of the future spouses is dead.”
Maybe it’s just me, but is that really cause for celebration?
Did you know….
Pope Adrian VI died after a fly got stuck in his throat as he was drinking from a fountain?
That couldn’t have been pretty.
Did you know…
Robert E. Lee wore a size 4 1/2 shoe?
That doesn’t speak well for the size of his….
Oh, never mind.
Did you know…
Endurance training that involves alternating between high and low intensity is called fartlek? It comes from the Swedish word fart, meaning speed and lek, meaning play.
Oh, those silly Swedes.
Did you know….
The amount of potato chips Americans eat each year weighs 6 times more than the Titanic.
Damn. That’s a lot of spuds.
The only truth in advertising you’re ever apt to see.
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
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