Tag Archives: reading

Things I don’t like today… Part 4.

 

I don’t like….

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?

 

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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.

 

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And having it come in a box.

 

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Talk about overkill.

 

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I don’t like…

Reading Maine native Stephen King’s latest,

 

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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,

 

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Getting them home and realizing…

 

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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,

 

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Some idiot doesn’t know how to steer his hot air balloon.

Oops!

Things I like today… chapter 4.

 

I like…

This road sign we passed on a country lane.

 

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Notice to salesmen – please move along.

 

 

 

I like…

Sitting on my deck reading,

 

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And being quiet enough to have a few visitors drop by.

 

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I like….

This kind of race.

 

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I might get a little winded…

But at least I know I’ll be able to cross the finish line.

 

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I like….

My fruit infuser pitcher.

 

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I know I should drink gallons of water daily, but let’s face it…unless it’s toning down my bourbon?

I’m not really interested.

 

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But chop up some fresh strawberries and let it sit overnight?

Quite tasty.

I’ve tried pineapple. Wonderful!

Mango? Meh.

Watermelon? No flavor at all.

Pear seemed like a good idea….

 

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But it turned brown and slimy in mere hours… so no to pear.

 

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(Don’t worry, it took me a minute to get it as well.)

 

I like…

 

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This picture I took of my flower bed with a triple rainbow shadow.

 

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Oh, Oprah.

 

Last week I was doing what I love most in the world,  kicking back with an ice cold margarita while being hand fed tasty morsels by Bradley Cooper,  waiting in an urgent care clinic for my SIL who I agreed to drive there.

** Warning for male readers – this post is going to go south about halfway through. Literally and figuratively. **

Medical facility waiting rooms are my least favorite place in the world. Crowded, obnoxiously loud, human petri dishes. Breeding grounds for the passage of whatever plague is currently circulating. Worried about mad cow disease or the bird flu? Forget the barnyard…. you’ll catch it here. Had I owned a bio hazard suit, I would have worn it proudly. With triple duct tape at the joints.

 

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As I was sitting in an unobtrusive corner trying not to breath, I realized my phone had died and I was at the mercy of the magazine rack. (Not reading is out of the question. Someone might want to start up a conversation and that’s entirely too much close contact when you’re trapped in a disease ridden incubator from Hell.)

As you know, medical waiting room magazine racks are filled with riveting copies of  Breast Feeding Monthly, How to Avoid Herpes newsletters and Let’s Identify that Secretion Digest.

I figured Oprah’s magazine would be the least revolting choice and grabbed her new issue.

 

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Oh, Oprah…

( Now would be a good time to point out that I detest women’s magazines in general. I have never needed to know how to bake a better bundt, why the soles of my feet are making me unhappy or what to do if my husband is cheating on me with my mother. )

And Hell, I didn’t even get past Oprah’s cover before I was rolling my eyes.

 

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While I have a girlfriend whose husband thinks hers has been on vacation since 2006…

I was guessing this article wasn’t about sex and shuddered to think about the tips hidden inside.

 

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I’d rather you didn’t, but thanks all the same.

The teaser didn’t bode well.

 

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And it made me wonder how mine has survived all these summers without the benefit of expert advice.

 

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There…

Now that’s advice you can use.

I refuse to go into detail about the article, but will post a picture of it for anyone who’s interested.

 

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In a nutshell? Treat Her Right.

Remember..

You heard it here first.

 

 

 

 

Let’s Talk Chicken… chapter 2.

 

Admit it, you’d thought I’d forgotten about this series.

 

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Well, I didn’t.

And in case you missed chapter 1…

Let’s talk chicken…

Onward!

Chapter 2.

 

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Chicken etiquette.

(Be honest…

Where else can you find quality blog content like this?

No where, that’s where.)

 

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Chickens are the most common bird on earth.

And since they out number us by 43 billion?

You might want to pay attention.

The uprising could come any day now.

 

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Pecking order is important… and not always based on size. Scientists believe breed, intelligence and personality allow chickens to size up other members of the flock. Knowing your place is what it’s all about.

The usual hen house order goes like this:

 

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The rooster is king.

Let’s call him Jon…

 

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Next is the head hen…

 

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We shall call her Sansa.

 

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Then there’s the sentinel.

 

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Whose name is Arya.

 

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And finally, the weak bottom dweller…

 

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Who, of course… is named Theon.

 

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(Hey, it’s Game of Thrones final season…

It can’t all be about chickens.)

But here’s a tidbit of trivia you probably could have gone all day without knowing.

 

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Cold hearted bitches, chickens.

But who can blame her when a man with better hair comes along?

 

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Let’s talk chicken…

 

As promised.

 

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Yes, we’re really doing this.

 

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Chapter 1.

 

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Having had many one sided chicken conversations, I was looking forward to this.

 

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Chicken cheerleaders…

Who knew?

 

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Apparently Animal Planet, who features them in the annual Puppy Bowl.

Though they do need to work on their pom pom skills a bit.

 

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And here I thought the only variety of peeps worth noting came at Easter.

 

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Tidbitting?

 

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I love learning new words.

 

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While I’ve had various roosters chase me over the years, I never once thought to challenge them to a dance off.

 

 

But clearly,  they’ve got moves.

 

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So it’s official… my spirit animal is a chicken.

I love to sunbathe as well.

 

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*Note to self – do not Google sunbathing chicken or you will find one on the menu of a restaurant in Japan, complete with dipping sauce and white bread beach chair.*

 

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This is educational stuff!

So the next time you hear a chicken say Buh-dup?

I expect you to politely return the greeting…. with a silent prayer of thanks to me for the translation.

 

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Why yes.

Yes, I am.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I bought a book.

 

No, that isn’t news.

I’m an avid reader and am probably personally responsible for Jeff Bezos’s ranking on the Fortune 500.

 

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But this book was special.

 

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As you may know, I have a fondness for chickens.

It started years ago when our farming neighbor moved in across the street and asked us to baby chicken sit.

Matter of fact, here’s a picture of the husband trying to speak to those first chickens.

 

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As you can see, it didn’t go well. The chickens weren’t paying attention.

Were his conversational skills severely lacking…

Or did he just not speak their language?

The chickens might have been saying all kinds of fascinating things!

 

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Or not.

The point is we didn’t know.

And as the flocks grew larger…

 

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We made friends…

 

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But the language barrier was problematic.

My pathetic attempts at cooing were for naught.

 

 

Clearly the birds had something to say.

Possibly deep, philosophical things….

 

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But we couldn’t decipher it.

Until now.

 

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So join me on the journey.

 

 

And we’ll explore these topics.

 

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Admit it.

There have been times you’ve wanted to chat up a chicken too.

 

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It will be fun…

 

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