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Let’s talk toe ancestry.
Because it’s Friday and no one ever does.
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I’m not seeing much difference between Germanic and Celtic and that seems to be my general shape.
Makes sense since my maternal line originates in Austria and my paternal line in Scotland.
So take off your shoes and tell me…
Whose toes do you have?
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It’s Friday.
You know the drill.
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I’m a December baby. A Sagittarius, the archer. Or in this case…
Rizzo.
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I can’t tell you how pleased this makes me.
And to be honest, my Muppet pretty much nailed me.
I am both a wisecracker and sarcastic. (An old friend of my husband’s once told him I was “a bit much” 🤣)
I’m also Jersey born and bred with a distinct Sopranos twang.
Do I love food? Ask my ever expanding waistline.
Yup. I’m Rizzo.
Which muppet are you?
And how close does it come to your personality…
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I may be down for the count, but the Friday show must go on.
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I can’t imagine anyone choosing 100 rental properties. That sounds like hell on earth to me.
And since I already have the spouse part down…
Never age? I don’t know. It sounds good but if it means I never die, outlive everyone I love and have to see humans destroy this beautiful planet? I think I’ll pass.
Give me perfect health, $600 million to enjoy it and a private island when I don’t feel like peopling.
How about you?
Pick three.
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Because everyone likes Fridays.
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The way things are going? That’s probably what it will take to fill my oil tanks for the winter.
😩
But if I have to use it for something fun and frivolous it would be one of two things….
A fabulously flashy red sports car for the husband. The man loves to drive, and though his hair may be grey… he still loves to drive fast.
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Yeah, he’d look good in that.
Though I’ll have to wait for my new knee before I attempt exiting that low slung beast.
And if I don’t buy him a sports car? We’ll take a fabulous tour of Europe, first class all the way.
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Back to France because we both loved it the first time. Italy for the food and Roman history. Austria for the Alps and my very large but never met mother’s side of the family. Ending in Britain to explore English castles, Irish pubs and my father’s Scottish roots.
Now you-
If you had to spend $100,000 on something fun, what would it be?
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You know the drill.
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I’m going with 4 and 6.
4. When we visited France… me with very rudimentary French language skills and my husband with a non existent grasp… we felt like fish out of water, which resulted in many strange hand signals that probably insulted the natives. (It was pre cell phone days, no on demand translator for us) So yes, being able to converse without looking like brain dead baboons would be helpful.
6. First class is ridiculously more expensive than business so I rarely if ever book it. But it would be nice to have a little more elbow room and a full can of Coke.
As for the rest, we’re retired and don’t need vacation days.
Perfect weather is nice, but it’s on those gloomy rainy days that we discover the great museums and art galleries.
I’m a type A researcher. If there’s a secret spot? I’ll find it.
Make lifelong friends? My husband will talk to a rock. We never meet strangers.
Now you.
Pick two!
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Because the weekend is almost upon us.
😊
According to this sign, what are we not allowed to do?
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I’m going with fall asleep while flipping meatballs into a mouse hole.
If you saw that sign, what would you think it’s prohibiting?
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Time to warm up your memory banks and answer a question.
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My husband and I were married in 1984. We lived in a cheap, fully furnished rental house off base and basically had nothing to our names but the clothes on our back.
So naturally the first thing we did was buy a sexy new sports car.
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A Nissan 280ZX.
Brother, we were styling.
It had removable T Tops which were flashy, but honestly a pain in the *ss as they took up all the room in the tiny hatch space in back. Open roof and grocery shopping at the same time? Not happening.
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But we looked good, so who cared?
I tried searching old photo albums for a picture of us in or beside the car but this is the only one I could find.
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Car butt to the right.
A skinny, big haired ‘80’s me and the hubs on our way to a wedding on the left.
I do love me a man in uniform.
❤️
Your turn.
What were you driving in 1984?
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If you’re flying solo? Seat mates can make or break the trip.
I’ve had people who won’t shut up and people who don’t say a word.
A woman who wouldn’t stop drinking.
An ADHD child (who drove me to drink)
A man so creepy the flight attendant asked me if I wanted to change seats. (I did, and was upgraded to first class.)
Yes, seat mates are important.
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While I do have a few unanswered questions for Marilyn… and Batman might come in handy if there was an emergency, I’m going with Betty White.
Ten hours of laughing sounds like a good plan to me.
How about you?
Pick a seat mate.
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Happy Friday!
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Since I don’t drink coffee, I’m going to take blogging liberty and switch mine to tea.
I doubt it will come at as any surprise that I hate the heat. I detest sweaty, humid summers and long for cool, crisp autumn temperatures.
I drink iced tea all year long. Fresh brewed, unsweetened with a slice of lemon.
So yes, I pick cold in winter.
How about you?
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Because into every summer a little corn must fall.
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Mmm… this is tough. I usually just roll it in butter and call it a day. But if I had to choose toppings?
I’d be torn between pesto and elote.
What’s your cob of choice?
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