What makes my cat believe that the best place to be this time of year is lying on the branches of my Christmas Tree? Don't misunderstand. He doesn't actually want to climb the Christmas tree. He simply wants to be lying on the branches of it. I know this because he doesn't repeatedly go to the trunk of the tree and try to climb. He goes to the bottom branches and lifts his front paw and tries to stand on the branch.
When he broke my old tree, he was lying on the bottom branches exactly where he is trying to go now. I walked in the house and all of the bottom two rows of branches were angled down and touching the ground and Jingle was lying in the middle of them. I think it has something to do with his name. He may actually believe that he is a Christmas tree ornament....
The good news is that he has only knocked one ornament off so far. It did not break. Currently, Shiner has him preoccupied. They are chasing one another through the house thus allowing me some time to work on a blog and drink my coffee in peace. I took both cats to Mom and Dad's house last week for Thanksgiving. Normally, I would just leave them here and ask a friend to feed them or pay a pet sitting service to come over once a day. Using either of those options would have meant I needed to come home sooner than I did. I hate asking a friend to come over every single day for more than a few days. And I can't see paying a pet sitting service again until the travel business gets off the ground.
The cats do okay at Mom and Dad's house. The only issue is that they have a big alpha cat named Regis and anytime that Regis wants to come in which is usually twice a day, my cats have to be locked away in the bedroom. It is relatively easy to get them in there with a bag of treats. So, it is not a big deal. But during my visit, it brought up the topic of pet sitting services and how they work. The one that I have always used will do just about anything you ask.
Prior to the first official visit, the pet sitter comes over to meet your animals and walk through the house with you. She takes thorough notes on this visit and spends time just getting to know the animals. My initial visit was 8 or 9 years ago. Since then, I have probably used the service 20 or 30 times and never had contact with them again except on the phone. Only my cats know what their current cat sitter looks like. I think in the 8 or 9 years, they have had 3 different people take care of them from this service. The service tries to keep the same person with the same animals each time but of course conflicts come up and people no doubt, leave their employment.
On that initial visit, some of the things the pet sitter asked were where I keep cleaning supplies and products, where I keep extra cat food and litter, where I buy my cat foot and litter, where the cat carrier was kept and if there were any special tricks to getting Jingle into the cat carrier. She told me that she needed to know all of this in case I ever ran out of food while I was away or if there was ever an emergency that required her taking Jingle to the vet. I gave them a key during that initial visit 8 or 9 years ago and they still have it. They also have my credit card info on file. Now, when I am ready to leave town, I just call or email to begin service and they come over as many times a day as I ask to take care of things.
Some of the things they do while they are here are: Feed the cats and give them fresh water, scoop the litter boxes and sweep and clean up around them, play with the cats, feed the fish, water plants, open/close blinds, turn lights on or off. The will also pick up papers and mail and bring all of that in the house. I don't require that since my mailbox is secured and I don't take a paper, but they take fliers off of the door and bring packages in that FedEx or UPS may have left. When I come home, my trash has always been emptied and my floors are freshly swept. If I have to leave unexpectedly due to an emergency, I can call them from the road and start service immediately. They know where I keep the food so I don't have to sit it out for them in an emergency. If I run out of food while I am gone, they will go buy new food and add that expense to my bill.
They began a new service in the last year, I can't remember what it is called, Peace of Mind or something like that, where you can fill out some paperwork and they give you papers to distribute to your loved ones so that if you die the loved ones can call and start the service until arrangements are made for the pets. This month in the newsletter that they send out, they suggested that with the holidays and office parties, if you see that you will be late and can't get home to let the dog in or out or to feed him, you can call and they will drop by to let Rover out so that you don't come home to a mess.
Here's the deal, this service costs me $25 each time they walk in the house. There is an additional charge per pet and I am not sure what the initial charge for one pet is anymore. When I first started using them, it was $17 per visit for one pet. Until about a year ago, my cats required two visits a day. So, at that time, I paid $50 a day for cat sitting while I was out of town. For the price of cat sitting while I was away on a 7 night cruise, I could almost have taken them with me and gotten them their own inside cabin on the ship if the cruise line would allow it.
After we talked about this for a while, Mom asked why I got into the travel business instead of pet sitting since I love animals so much. So now I have been kicking this around for several days. I am now a travel agent and that makes me happy. But could I be a travel agent who also feeds and cares for your pets while you are away???? I don't know. I am currently working on a couple of trips where I am also going to be transportation for my clients to get to and from the airport here in Dallas. Hey! Don't judge! You do what you have to do. This is just something that I have been thinking about for a few days. It could make for one heck of a full service travel agency....
I'm going to get busy now. I have a pumpkin cheesecake to make for a dinner party and a Panama Canal cruise to research. :-) Have a great day!
Roatan
Pirate ship?
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Day Two-Thirty - Torture!
For some people the holidays are torture. Perhaps for you they are not torture. If this is the case, it could be that you are the person torturing others. Think about it. Do you do things that might make others crazy? Perhaps you don't even realize that you do them. Maybe you know that you do them, but you don't realize that it is an annoyance to those who must be around you during the holidays. Here are a few signs to look out for....
Does your mother-in-law have a freakishly large smile with those little aneurysm lines between her eyes from the moment you walk in with your store bought rolls still in the package? Let me lay out the scene, perhaps six months ago, at a family gathering someone said, "where's Thanksgiving going to be this year?" Your husbands mother said, "I was hoping you would all come to our house." Then about three weeks ago, she called you on a Sunday afternoon and said, that the father-in-law really enjoyed those rolls you made for the last get together at your house and asked you to make them and bring them to Thanksgiving. So, now three weeks later, you show up at her house with one package of Mrs. Baird's Bake N' Serve Rolls.... Twelve store bought rolls for 14 people for Thanksgiving.
So, you set the rolls on the kitchen counter and head into the living room following your four children and husband and you sit down on the couch and immediately whip out your IPad and bury your head in it. Around you there is a constant buzz of conversation, but you successfully manage to avoid all contact with your in-laws thanks to the trusty IPad which apparently has the codes for getting into Fort Knox embedded into it with the way you are almost hypnotically staring at it.
Your really big dog with it's really big tail runs through the living room since, you know, you brought it and all four of your precious children run through the living room behind the big dog chasing it because, you know, they're kids and it's a dog. As they all run through, your father-in-law says in an obviously strained voice, "let's not run through the house, kids". You vaguely hear that the FIL has spoken, but it doesn't register what he has said as you get ever closer to those allusive Fort Knox codes.
Your husband, their son and the father of the four kids running through the house, is still conscious since he left his laptop at home, but he chooses to ignore anything other than the football game going on until there is a crash from the kitchen. Then he looks over at you with that look on his face that says "I think YOUR kids broke something". You notice that he has just given you a strange look but still with your head buried in the IPad, you are not sure why. You remain on the couch while he goes into the kitchen with the FIL to try and calm down your now hysterical MIL.
Meanwhile, you are on the couch wondering what all of the screeching is about coming from the kitchen and how anybody can possibly be expected to concentrate on their Fort Knox codes in this house?!?!?!!? Finally, your husband, his dad, your four children and the really big dog with the really big tail all come into the living room and sit down as your husbands siblings and their spouses and children arrive. The other show off women go immediately to the kitchen obviously trying to score brownie points with the MIL. You've been around long enough to know that going into the kitchen and attempting to help out actually has the opposite effect where you are concerned. The woman actually screeches louder whenever you enter the kitchen.....
Finally dinner is served. The food is good, you notice that one of your kids has two rolls on his plate and half of the family has no rolls at all but you don't care. In your mind, you are trying to figure out what you are missing on those pesky Fort Knox codes. Dinner is over, the other women stay behind in the kitchen and start doing the dishes, but you are a firm believer that a kitchen with too many people in it is inefficient, so you do your part by going to the living room and getting back to work on the codes. After all of that turkey, you suddenly feel sleepy.... the codes start to blur. You put the IPad down and stretch out on the couch for just a second.... and wake up two hours later to find that you are sprawled across the couch, four adults are sitting on the floor, your mother-in-law is wiping your kids runny nose and your husband is missing. After an extensive search, you discover that he is in a back bedroom watching the same thing that is on the TV in the other room by himself. You think to yourself, how did I marry into such a strange family and what am I missing on those darn codes???
You force your husband back to the living room where you say your goodbyes, round your kids and the dog up and you all head out to the car. On the way home, you and kids talk about how strange Granny and Grampy always are while your husband turns the radio up just a little louder. You think quietly to yourself, why did that woman make me bring rolls if she didn't even eat one?
Does your mother-in-law have a freakishly large smile with those little aneurysm lines between her eyes from the moment you walk in with your store bought rolls still in the package? Let me lay out the scene, perhaps six months ago, at a family gathering someone said, "where's Thanksgiving going to be this year?" Your husbands mother said, "I was hoping you would all come to our house." Then about three weeks ago, she called you on a Sunday afternoon and said, that the father-in-law really enjoyed those rolls you made for the last get together at your house and asked you to make them and bring them to Thanksgiving. So, now three weeks later, you show up at her house with one package of Mrs. Baird's Bake N' Serve Rolls.... Twelve store bought rolls for 14 people for Thanksgiving.
So, you set the rolls on the kitchen counter and head into the living room following your four children and husband and you sit down on the couch and immediately whip out your IPad and bury your head in it. Around you there is a constant buzz of conversation, but you successfully manage to avoid all contact with your in-laws thanks to the trusty IPad which apparently has the codes for getting into Fort Knox embedded into it with the way you are almost hypnotically staring at it.
Your really big dog with it's really big tail runs through the living room since, you know, you brought it and all four of your precious children run through the living room behind the big dog chasing it because, you know, they're kids and it's a dog. As they all run through, your father-in-law says in an obviously strained voice, "let's not run through the house, kids". You vaguely hear that the FIL has spoken, but it doesn't register what he has said as you get ever closer to those allusive Fort Knox codes.
Your husband, their son and the father of the four kids running through the house, is still conscious since he left his laptop at home, but he chooses to ignore anything other than the football game going on until there is a crash from the kitchen. Then he looks over at you with that look on his face that says "I think YOUR kids broke something". You notice that he has just given you a strange look but still with your head buried in the IPad, you are not sure why. You remain on the couch while he goes into the kitchen with the FIL to try and calm down your now hysterical MIL.
Meanwhile, you are on the couch wondering what all of the screeching is about coming from the kitchen and how anybody can possibly be expected to concentrate on their Fort Knox codes in this house?!?!?!!? Finally, your husband, his dad, your four children and the really big dog with the really big tail all come into the living room and sit down as your husbands siblings and their spouses and children arrive. The other show off women go immediately to the kitchen obviously trying to score brownie points with the MIL. You've been around long enough to know that going into the kitchen and attempting to help out actually has the opposite effect where you are concerned. The woman actually screeches louder whenever you enter the kitchen.....
Finally dinner is served. The food is good, you notice that one of your kids has two rolls on his plate and half of the family has no rolls at all but you don't care. In your mind, you are trying to figure out what you are missing on those pesky Fort Knox codes. Dinner is over, the other women stay behind in the kitchen and start doing the dishes, but you are a firm believer that a kitchen with too many people in it is inefficient, so you do your part by going to the living room and getting back to work on the codes. After all of that turkey, you suddenly feel sleepy.... the codes start to blur. You put the IPad down and stretch out on the couch for just a second.... and wake up two hours later to find that you are sprawled across the couch, four adults are sitting on the floor, your mother-in-law is wiping your kids runny nose and your husband is missing. After an extensive search, you discover that he is in a back bedroom watching the same thing that is on the TV in the other room by himself. You think to yourself, how did I marry into such a strange family and what am I missing on those darn codes???
You force your husband back to the living room where you say your goodbyes, round your kids and the dog up and you all head out to the car. On the way home, you and kids talk about how strange Granny and Grampy always are while your husband turns the radio up just a little louder. You think quietly to yourself, why did that woman make me bring rolls if she didn't even eat one?
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Day Two-Twenty-Eight - An Early Birthday Tribute to Robbie
Tomorrow is my brother Robbie's birthday. You have probably noticed that Ronnie makes his way into my blog pretty often. I think there are several reasons for that. The first and biggest of which is that when Ronnie was a kid, he was a little mean and did things to me which were pretty memorable... you know like shooting me with BB guns and such. Ronnie and I are also very close in age, so we spent a lot of time together as kids. Meanwhile Robbie was 3 years older than me, so he had started school while Ronnie and I were still running around together getting into trouble. He moved away from home after graduating from high school leaving me and Ronnie to stay home together and get into trouble. Do you notice a reoccurring theme here? Anyway, there aren't as many Robbie stories but the ones that exist almost always involve an injury, usually to Robbie.
I was thinking this morning of stories involving Robbie that I could relate in honor of his upcoming birthday and since he was for the most part a good kid, there really aren't that many. I am sure that the boys from our old neighborhood, like Ricky, the Phillips' and the Shoemaker's could tell you a lot of stories, but from me you'll just have to hear about the day that Robbie fell on the Slip N' Slide and wound up with amnesia.
It was a Sunday because for some reason, most Meyers injuries that involved doctors or hospitals took place on weekends. During the week before the incident, Nacogdoches had gone through the biggest thing to happen there in years. A freight train had derailed near town. There had been explosions and you could see the glow of the flames that night from our house. The big explosion had broken windows in town and it was a really big deal for Nacogdoches. I mean it was no Space Shuttle disaster, which happened many years after I had moved away, but it was a big deal back in the 70's. I remember lying in bed that night and worrying that the whole town would burn up and we would all die. I was a dumb little kid, what can I say? Anyway, you get my point, it was a memorable event.
Well that Sunday, was like any other Sunday. I don't even remember anything about the day until the incident occurred and I can guarantee you that Robbie can't tell us anything about the day. :-) Somebody was over at our house playing cards with Mom and Dad. It might have been the Bailey's, but I'm not sure, because I don't remember Dee Dee, Donnie and Davie being there and I think I would have remembered that. Robbie and Ronnie came in the house with a lot of other neighborhood kids and Rick Reese. Rick didn't live on Nottingham. His house was behind the Shoemaker's house down a long private driveway on some acreage by itself. So, you just sort of walked behind the Shoemaker's house and through a really small patch of woods to get to Rick's house. Apparently, at Rick's they had been playing on a Slip N' Slide and as you may know there isn't much to a Slip N' Slide if you simply slip and then slide. So, they were trying to "surf" on it. They would go down the Slip N' Slide standing up. Robbie did it and fell down hitting his head on a rock that was under the Slip N' Slide.
When they came in our house they all went straight to Robbie and Ronnie's bedroom and closed the door. So naturally, I assumed I was supposed to be in there and walked in with them. When a brothers bedroom door is closed, it is a clear indication that the nosey sister should enter! They were all lying on the beds and talking to Robbie who was acting really weird. So, Rick went and told my parents that there was something wrong with Robbie. I think my parents didn't believe that there was anything wrong just because everybody including Robbie was joking around and you couldn't visibly see an injury. So we all went back to Robbie and Ronnie's room but Robbie couldn't remember anything!
Eventually, Mom and Dad realized that there really was something wrong with Robbie and Dad took him to the doctor. It turned out that he had a concussion which had resulted in amnesia. To this day, Robbie has no memory of the train derailment that had occurred in Nacogdoches a few days earlier. When Robbie and Dad got home from the doctors office, Dad joked that when the doctor had tested his reflexes on his knee with that little hammer Robbie had kicked over a lamp. Robbie didn't remember doing that and then Dad told him that it didn't really happen. Leave it to my dad to mess with a kid who has amnesia.
Robbie had amnesia again when we were in college and he laid down his motorcycle at University Dr. and the south Loop 224. Christina was at our house when the hospital called and I walked in from class a minute or so later. So, I went to the hospital to get him. He later said that on that occasion when the doctor in the emergency room read off a phone number and asked if it was familiar and it was, he felt like he had just won the Irish Sweepstakes. I can't imagine not being able to remember things.... I mean other than passwords for various travel websites and that sort of thing. It must be a very strange feeling. But Robbie made it through both of his bouts of amnesia with no ill effects other than not remembering a few days during the summer of 1974 in Nacogdoches.
Happy Birthday Rob!
I was thinking this morning of stories involving Robbie that I could relate in honor of his upcoming birthday and since he was for the most part a good kid, there really aren't that many. I am sure that the boys from our old neighborhood, like Ricky, the Phillips' and the Shoemaker's could tell you a lot of stories, but from me you'll just have to hear about the day that Robbie fell on the Slip N' Slide and wound up with amnesia.
It was a Sunday because for some reason, most Meyers injuries that involved doctors or hospitals took place on weekends. During the week before the incident, Nacogdoches had gone through the biggest thing to happen there in years. A freight train had derailed near town. There had been explosions and you could see the glow of the flames that night from our house. The big explosion had broken windows in town and it was a really big deal for Nacogdoches. I mean it was no Space Shuttle disaster, which happened many years after I had moved away, but it was a big deal back in the 70's. I remember lying in bed that night and worrying that the whole town would burn up and we would all die. I was a dumb little kid, what can I say? Anyway, you get my point, it was a memorable event.
Well that Sunday, was like any other Sunday. I don't even remember anything about the day until the incident occurred and I can guarantee you that Robbie can't tell us anything about the day. :-) Somebody was over at our house playing cards with Mom and Dad. It might have been the Bailey's, but I'm not sure, because I don't remember Dee Dee, Donnie and Davie being there and I think I would have remembered that. Robbie and Ronnie came in the house with a lot of other neighborhood kids and Rick Reese. Rick didn't live on Nottingham. His house was behind the Shoemaker's house down a long private driveway on some acreage by itself. So, you just sort of walked behind the Shoemaker's house and through a really small patch of woods to get to Rick's house. Apparently, at Rick's they had been playing on a Slip N' Slide and as you may know there isn't much to a Slip N' Slide if you simply slip and then slide. So, they were trying to "surf" on it. They would go down the Slip N' Slide standing up. Robbie did it and fell down hitting his head on a rock that was under the Slip N' Slide.
When they came in our house they all went straight to Robbie and Ronnie's bedroom and closed the door. So naturally, I assumed I was supposed to be in there and walked in with them. When a brothers bedroom door is closed, it is a clear indication that the nosey sister should enter! They were all lying on the beds and talking to Robbie who was acting really weird. So, Rick went and told my parents that there was something wrong with Robbie. I think my parents didn't believe that there was anything wrong just because everybody including Robbie was joking around and you couldn't visibly see an injury. So we all went back to Robbie and Ronnie's room but Robbie couldn't remember anything!
Eventually, Mom and Dad realized that there really was something wrong with Robbie and Dad took him to the doctor. It turned out that he had a concussion which had resulted in amnesia. To this day, Robbie has no memory of the train derailment that had occurred in Nacogdoches a few days earlier. When Robbie and Dad got home from the doctors office, Dad joked that when the doctor had tested his reflexes on his knee with that little hammer Robbie had kicked over a lamp. Robbie didn't remember doing that and then Dad told him that it didn't really happen. Leave it to my dad to mess with a kid who has amnesia.
Robbie had amnesia again when we were in college and he laid down his motorcycle at University Dr. and the south Loop 224. Christina was at our house when the hospital called and I walked in from class a minute or so later. So, I went to the hospital to get him. He later said that on that occasion when the doctor in the emergency room read off a phone number and asked if it was familiar and it was, he felt like he had just won the Irish Sweepstakes. I can't imagine not being able to remember things.... I mean other than passwords for various travel websites and that sort of thing. It must be a very strange feeling. But Robbie made it through both of his bouts of amnesia with no ill effects other than not remembering a few days during the summer of 1974 in Nacogdoches.
Happy Birthday Rob!
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Day Two-Twenty-Seven - "Helpful" Comments of an Old German Woman
I'm trying to decide when the best time will be to go to the grocery store. Mom called and told me what I need to bring for Thanksgiving and my grocery list is already made. But now I have to go and actually purchase all of the things on the list. This is the worst week of the year to go to the grocery store. On the bright side, I cleaned my pantry out this week and threw away all of the canned goods that were past their expiration date. So, there is plenty of room in my pantry now. Of course, I'm not planning to stock up on canned goods. I just want to buy what I need to make my assigned dishes.
The assigned dishes are a German Chocolate Cake and Sausage Kolaches. I make Sausage Kolaches usually once a year either at Christmas or Thanksgiving. It is what we usually have for breakfast and snacks throughout the holiday. I use the recipe that we got from my Great Aunt Bessie. They aren't like the ones that you get at your local donut shop. I love them. I tolerate the ones from the donut shops. Don't get me wrong. The ones at the donut shops contain both sausage and bread, so I don't complain. But they aren't like the ones that Aunt Bessie's recipe makes.
The German Chocolate Cake is from a recipe I found in one of those old church cookbooks that was purchased 50 or so years ago. I think my Aunt Ida's church must have been selling them since several of Aunt Ida's recipes are in it. Aunt Ida is an old German woman with an opinion on everything. She was the wife of my Dad's half brother, EC who was his oldest sibling. Uncle EC passed away several years ago. But Aunt Ida is still kicking. On holidays Uncle EC and Aunt Ida used to come to our house along with the rest of the family and Aunt Ida never left the kitchen. Even if she had nothing to do, she would remain in the kitchen so that she could keep Mom or anyone else working in there posted on each thing they were doing wrong. I don't think Aunt Ida ever intended her comments to be mean or hateful. She was just a strong German woman with little tact. I also think that a thick German accent might make all comments sound just a little meaner.
It drove my Mom nuts. Aunt Ida was a good baker. She knew that she was good at it and I think in her mind she was just trying to pass a little of her extensive knowledge on to others. She had no children, so her sisters-in-law and nieces became her students in her mind. It was her attempt to pass on a legacy. But in Mom's mind, everything Aunt Ida said, every grunt or tsk that passed her lips was meant as a criticism. And they all left a mark.
Aunt Ida used to bring this Daffodil Cake to family gatherings. It was the fluffiest, lightest, most wonderful cake in the world. I loved it. But until about 5 years ago, I never expressed my love for that cake. I was afraid to since I was fairly convinced that Mom would be hurt if she found out my favorite cake was one of Aunt Ida's recipes. Turns out, it didn't bother her at all, it just surprised her. That recipe is in the old cookbook that I have with a number of Aunt Ida's recipes in it. There are a lot of other recipes in the book with her name next to them. But the German Chocolate Cake that I am baking for Thanksgiving is not one of them. Some other lady from her church submitted the German Chocolate recipe.
Mom and I each have a copy of this cookbook. I think Aunt Ida gave them as gifts in the year that her church was selling them.... either that or both Mom and Grandma bought one. Either way, I now have Mom's copy and Mom has Grandma's copy. I can tell that I have Mom's copy because there are a number of handwritten recipes at the end of each chapter that were written by Mom.
When Dad had his knee replacement surgery a few months ago, he was released from the hospital in time to celebrate his birthday over the weekend. So, while Mom was getting Dad sprung from Nacogdoches Memorial Hospital, I stayed at their house and baked Dad a German Chocolate birthday cake using this recipe. He loves German Chocolate Cake. It turned out really good. So, Mom called earlier this week and asked me to make it again for Thanksgiving. This makes me really happy. Although I knew that it was good and we all enjoyed it, the fact that it was requested for Thanksgiving means that I must have really done a good job on it!
I haven't seen Aunt Ida in a number of years. I am sure that if she were to come to Mom and Dad's for Thanksgiving this year, she would be able to make a number of comments and grunts that would undoubtedly improve on the cake. On the other hand, Mom who doesn't have an ounce of German blood in her body is pretty good at handing out those "helpful" comments herself.
The assigned dishes are a German Chocolate Cake and Sausage Kolaches. I make Sausage Kolaches usually once a year either at Christmas or Thanksgiving. It is what we usually have for breakfast and snacks throughout the holiday. I use the recipe that we got from my Great Aunt Bessie. They aren't like the ones that you get at your local donut shop. I love them. I tolerate the ones from the donut shops. Don't get me wrong. The ones at the donut shops contain both sausage and bread, so I don't complain. But they aren't like the ones that Aunt Bessie's recipe makes.
The German Chocolate Cake is from a recipe I found in one of those old church cookbooks that was purchased 50 or so years ago. I think my Aunt Ida's church must have been selling them since several of Aunt Ida's recipes are in it. Aunt Ida is an old German woman with an opinion on everything. She was the wife of my Dad's half brother, EC who was his oldest sibling. Uncle EC passed away several years ago. But Aunt Ida is still kicking. On holidays Uncle EC and Aunt Ida used to come to our house along with the rest of the family and Aunt Ida never left the kitchen. Even if she had nothing to do, she would remain in the kitchen so that she could keep Mom or anyone else working in there posted on each thing they were doing wrong. I don't think Aunt Ida ever intended her comments to be mean or hateful. She was just a strong German woman with little tact. I also think that a thick German accent might make all comments sound just a little meaner.
It drove my Mom nuts. Aunt Ida was a good baker. She knew that she was good at it and I think in her mind she was just trying to pass a little of her extensive knowledge on to others. She had no children, so her sisters-in-law and nieces became her students in her mind. It was her attempt to pass on a legacy. But in Mom's mind, everything Aunt Ida said, every grunt or tsk that passed her lips was meant as a criticism. And they all left a mark.
Aunt Ida used to bring this Daffodil Cake to family gatherings. It was the fluffiest, lightest, most wonderful cake in the world. I loved it. But until about 5 years ago, I never expressed my love for that cake. I was afraid to since I was fairly convinced that Mom would be hurt if she found out my favorite cake was one of Aunt Ida's recipes. Turns out, it didn't bother her at all, it just surprised her. That recipe is in the old cookbook that I have with a number of Aunt Ida's recipes in it. There are a lot of other recipes in the book with her name next to them. But the German Chocolate Cake that I am baking for Thanksgiving is not one of them. Some other lady from her church submitted the German Chocolate recipe.
Mom and I each have a copy of this cookbook. I think Aunt Ida gave them as gifts in the year that her church was selling them.... either that or both Mom and Grandma bought one. Either way, I now have Mom's copy and Mom has Grandma's copy. I can tell that I have Mom's copy because there are a number of handwritten recipes at the end of each chapter that were written by Mom.
When Dad had his knee replacement surgery a few months ago, he was released from the hospital in time to celebrate his birthday over the weekend. So, while Mom was getting Dad sprung from Nacogdoches Memorial Hospital, I stayed at their house and baked Dad a German Chocolate birthday cake using this recipe. He loves German Chocolate Cake. It turned out really good. So, Mom called earlier this week and asked me to make it again for Thanksgiving. This makes me really happy. Although I knew that it was good and we all enjoyed it, the fact that it was requested for Thanksgiving means that I must have really done a good job on it!
I haven't seen Aunt Ida in a number of years. I am sure that if she were to come to Mom and Dad's for Thanksgiving this year, she would be able to make a number of comments and grunts that would undoubtedly improve on the cake. On the other hand, Mom who doesn't have an ounce of German blood in her body is pretty good at handing out those "helpful" comments herself.
Friday, November 16, 2012
Day Two-Twenty-Six - The Pink Boat Snorkel Adventure
Good morning friends. I hope it has been a good and productive week for everyone. I had a great week. On Tuesday, I took the soap that I made last weekend out of the soap molds. It is now sitting out in the garage curing. It is really nice soap. We made bath soap with Tea Tree and we made kitchen soap that has coffee in it. The coffee soap is supposed to get rid of odors like garlic and onion. I'm pretty excited about it.
Everytime I have left home this week I have heard the same thing over and over from almost everyone I have come in contact with. "Isn't this weather great? It finally feels like fall!!!" I have one word for all of you.... BURRRRRRRRR!!!!! I hate being cold. I know it is getting up into the mid 60's during the day and a lot of you think this is ideal. But for me this is torture. If it would just go down to the mid 60's at night and warm up to 80 during the day, I could live with it. Then I could leave the windows open all the time and save a ton of money on heating and cooling. Plus I could leave the patio door open all day long so that Jingle and Shiner would never have to sit at the door and wait for me to open it. Life would be better.
I just can't figure out how a person who hates to be cold as much as I do was born in a place that gets cold weather. I think there was an error. I was probably supposed to have been born in a place like St. Maarten. If I lived in St. Maarten, the world would be a happier place. For one thing, nobody would ever have to listen to me whining about being cold. There would also be at least one more charter boat taking snorkelers out daily and God knows that the world needs more charter boats.
I know what you're thinking, snorkel charters in the Caribbean are a dime a dozen. But mine would be different from the others. To start with, my boat or boats would be pink. Not that horrible Mary Kay pink that you see on Cadillacs, but a vibrant flamingo pink. That way the boats would stand out and when they came toward the cruise ship dock to pick up passengers, the anticipation would build. As much fun as sailing is, my boats would not be catamarans, they would be speed boats. See, here's the deal. Those catamarans usually run the motors most of the time anyway to get you to your snorkeling spot and back on time. The sails are really sort of an illusion to make you feel like you are on a relaxing sail. So, let's just call a spade a spade and make it about speed. Besides, if my boats can get you to the good snorkeling spots faster and back faster, then you might be able to do something else before you have to leave St. Maarten.
Since my beautiful pink boats would be speeding through the water, you wouldn't be able to mill about on the boat during the trip back after snorkeling. That also means there would be no complimentary rum punch or beer on board. But we would make up for that by taking you to a cute little outdoor beach bar before going back to the ship. There you could have a few beers, view and perhaps buy some pictures that the snorkel photographer took during your excursion (with the pink boat strategically right behind you in each shot), build a sand castle or two and if you feel the need to do the Macarana at every Caribbean stop, this would be your chance. Oh! This is where you would also have the opportunity to buy some of my over priced but really cool t-shirts to commemorate your day on board my pink boat in St. Maarten. Later on as we make more money we would probably add caps, koozies and key chains to the assortment. All would be pink, obviously.
Before long, my pink boats would be the most sought after excursion in the Virgin Islands. All over the world, people would be wearing my pink t-shirts around and total strangers would walk up to them and say, "Wow! Did you really take the Pink Boat Snorkel Adventure?" Their envy would be clear. My boats would be legendary. I would probably have to buy more boats and start businesses on other islands as the business grows. I mean after all, we would only be able to accommodate 80 people per boat a day on St. Maarten. So, if we had boats on other islands, more people would be able to take the great Pink Boat Snorkel Adventure.
I'm still not too sure about that name. It might be something I would have to get my marketing people to work on.... Okay, I'm through day dreaming now. It is time to get to work. Happy Friday!
Everytime I have left home this week I have heard the same thing over and over from almost everyone I have come in contact with. "Isn't this weather great? It finally feels like fall!!!" I have one word for all of you.... BURRRRRRRRR!!!!! I hate being cold. I know it is getting up into the mid 60's during the day and a lot of you think this is ideal. But for me this is torture. If it would just go down to the mid 60's at night and warm up to 80 during the day, I could live with it. Then I could leave the windows open all the time and save a ton of money on heating and cooling. Plus I could leave the patio door open all day long so that Jingle and Shiner would never have to sit at the door and wait for me to open it. Life would be better.
I just can't figure out how a person who hates to be cold as much as I do was born in a place that gets cold weather. I think there was an error. I was probably supposed to have been born in a place like St. Maarten. If I lived in St. Maarten, the world would be a happier place. For one thing, nobody would ever have to listen to me whining about being cold. There would also be at least one more charter boat taking snorkelers out daily and God knows that the world needs more charter boats.
I know what you're thinking, snorkel charters in the Caribbean are a dime a dozen. But mine would be different from the others. To start with, my boat or boats would be pink. Not that horrible Mary Kay pink that you see on Cadillacs, but a vibrant flamingo pink. That way the boats would stand out and when they came toward the cruise ship dock to pick up passengers, the anticipation would build. As much fun as sailing is, my boats would not be catamarans, they would be speed boats. See, here's the deal. Those catamarans usually run the motors most of the time anyway to get you to your snorkeling spot and back on time. The sails are really sort of an illusion to make you feel like you are on a relaxing sail. So, let's just call a spade a spade and make it about speed. Besides, if my boats can get you to the good snorkeling spots faster and back faster, then you might be able to do something else before you have to leave St. Maarten.
Since my beautiful pink boats would be speeding through the water, you wouldn't be able to mill about on the boat during the trip back after snorkeling. That also means there would be no complimentary rum punch or beer on board. But we would make up for that by taking you to a cute little outdoor beach bar before going back to the ship. There you could have a few beers, view and perhaps buy some pictures that the snorkel photographer took during your excursion (with the pink boat strategically right behind you in each shot), build a sand castle or two and if you feel the need to do the Macarana at every Caribbean stop, this would be your chance. Oh! This is where you would also have the opportunity to buy some of my over priced but really cool t-shirts to commemorate your day on board my pink boat in St. Maarten. Later on as we make more money we would probably add caps, koozies and key chains to the assortment. All would be pink, obviously.
Before long, my pink boats would be the most sought after excursion in the Virgin Islands. All over the world, people would be wearing my pink t-shirts around and total strangers would walk up to them and say, "Wow! Did you really take the Pink Boat Snorkel Adventure?" Their envy would be clear. My boats would be legendary. I would probably have to buy more boats and start businesses on other islands as the business grows. I mean after all, we would only be able to accommodate 80 people per boat a day on St. Maarten. So, if we had boats on other islands, more people would be able to take the great Pink Boat Snorkel Adventure.
I'm still not too sure about that name. It might be something I would have to get my marketing people to work on.... Okay, I'm through day dreaming now. It is time to get to work. Happy Friday!
Monday, November 12, 2012
Day Two-Twenty-Two - Syrup Update!
I am back from East Texas. It was a nice trip. Saturday I met Mom and Dad in Henderson for the Syrup Festival. This year we actually went into the area that you pay to get into. It was well worth the $3 that we spent on admission. I got a jar of Sorghum Molasses Syrup. I sampled the Moonshine Syrup from the same vendor. But liked this one better. It is pretty yummy and it is really going to make a great pecan pie! I had planned on starting a 21 day cleanse this week, but with dinner club and Thanksgiving coming up, I think I will wait especially since I have all of this great syrup!
I was pretty gung ho last night but my excitement has subsided a little as I have gotten closer and closer to actually living on shakes and veggies. Right now, I am thinking that the ideal start date will be the Sunday following Thanksgiving.
The soapmaking went so well yesterday! I came home with some really great soap that I am very excited about. I also think I have decided that I should start making it at home regularly rather than going to Mom's once a year and doing it. There is no reason not to do it here. I feel like I am becoming a pioneer woman. With the spinning, knitting and soapmaking I think I am just days away from "callin' in the young 'uns so I can warsh their clothes...." The fact that there are no "young 'uns" to call in may be my only saving grace.
There might be somebody moving into the unit across my condo finally!!!! I am so excited. All of the signs have been there for weeks. But today, it is looking even more promising. Maybe by the end of the week, I'll have new neighbors. That would make me so happy. I really hope that they will be friendly, fun and kind of quiet. I know that is a lot of hope for. But a girl can dream.
Well, I don't have too much to catch you up on today and I have a lot of work to do so I will stop for now. Have a great week. Be sure to look for the travel blog for the remainder of the week. at http://placesuwillgo.blogspot.com. I probably won't write on the personal blog again until late in the week.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Day Two-Twenty - Headed to East Texas
I don't have much time to write today since I have to leave for Henderson, Tx. pretty early but I just wanted to take a few minutes to chat. I'm meeting Mom and Dad in Henderson this morning for the Syrup Festival. Don't hate people! You could all go, there is no charge to get into the Syrup Festival. After that, I'll be going to Mom and Dad's house with them for the rest of the weekend. Mom and I are making soap this weekend. Again, don't hate!
I have been working a lot on Travel stuff this week. If you noticed that I haven't been writing on this blog much it is because I have been writing the travel blog instead. It takes a lot more of my time to write since I can't just write about stuff in my head, I actually have to do research to write that blog. With this one, I figure as long as I get most things correct, I am okay. I mean after all, as long as we all know that I broke my arm at age 6 as a result of Ronnie chasing me up a flight of stairs and me going over the edge of the landing, is anybody really concerned with whether he pushed or I jumped? Probably not..... well unless you're Ronnie and he doesn't read this anyway. (And for the record, I admitted that I jumped several months ago when I wrote about the incident in this blog.)
It's tough getting up to an alarm every morning and then writing a factual blog with links, pictures and everything! I'm not sure that I really like being a responsible business owner with all of the grueling demands that it carries with it. Okay, I'm lying. I really love it. Doing research on ships and cruise lines the last few days has been a blast. Part of the information I have spouted out in the last couple of days on the blog was what I have been learning in my training. Other stuff is things I have looked up.
The funniest thing that I have figured out in the last two days is that it is only 2012. I started the Princess Cruise on line training a few weeks ago and was reading all about the new Princess ship that was launching in Oct of 2013 and in my head on the day that I read about that, I thought, "OMG! It set sail today on it's maiden voyage!" and I was completely convinced that it was sailing from Florida now. But then there was information that it's Mediterranean maiden voyage would be in June of 2013 and I thought it was weird that it wouldn't leave for Europe for another year and a half. So, it is obvious that I realized when it came to June that it wasn't 2013 yet. But for some reason I thought it was October of 2013 while it was October of 2012. I like to believe that I am not terribly stupid, but I did not figure all of this out until yesterday morning as I was finishing up my blog and reading back through it. Thank God I took a few minutes to proof read it or I might be trying to outrun men in white suits with a straight jacket right now.
Well, I must get ready so that I can leave for the Syrup Festival. I intend to get some syrup this year. Last year, all I had was a really bad sandwich and a warm Diet Coke. Have a great weekend and I'll talk to you all next week in between travel blogs.
I have been working a lot on Travel stuff this week. If you noticed that I haven't been writing on this blog much it is because I have been writing the travel blog instead. It takes a lot more of my time to write since I can't just write about stuff in my head, I actually have to do research to write that blog. With this one, I figure as long as I get most things correct, I am okay. I mean after all, as long as we all know that I broke my arm at age 6 as a result of Ronnie chasing me up a flight of stairs and me going over the edge of the landing, is anybody really concerned with whether he pushed or I jumped? Probably not..... well unless you're Ronnie and he doesn't read this anyway. (And for the record, I admitted that I jumped several months ago when I wrote about the incident in this blog.)
It's tough getting up to an alarm every morning and then writing a factual blog with links, pictures and everything! I'm not sure that I really like being a responsible business owner with all of the grueling demands that it carries with it. Okay, I'm lying. I really love it. Doing research on ships and cruise lines the last few days has been a blast. Part of the information I have spouted out in the last couple of days on the blog was what I have been learning in my training. Other stuff is things I have looked up.
The funniest thing that I have figured out in the last two days is that it is only 2012. I started the Princess Cruise on line training a few weeks ago and was reading all about the new Princess ship that was launching in Oct of 2013 and in my head on the day that I read about that, I thought, "OMG! It set sail today on it's maiden voyage!" and I was completely convinced that it was sailing from Florida now. But then there was information that it's Mediterranean maiden voyage would be in June of 2013 and I thought it was weird that it wouldn't leave for Europe for another year and a half. So, it is obvious that I realized when it came to June that it wasn't 2013 yet. But for some reason I thought it was October of 2013 while it was October of 2012. I like to believe that I am not terribly stupid, but I did not figure all of this out until yesterday morning as I was finishing up my blog and reading back through it. Thank God I took a few minutes to proof read it or I might be trying to outrun men in white suits with a straight jacket right now.
Well, I must get ready so that I can leave for the Syrup Festival. I intend to get some syrup this year. Last year, all I had was a really bad sandwich and a warm Diet Coke. Have a great weekend and I'll talk to you all next week in between travel blogs.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Day Two-Sixteen - I Voted!
Good morning fellow Americans! I know yesterday I mentioned that I might do a travel blog today. But since it is election day, I wanted to write about that instead. Maybe this afternoon if I am not too busy, I can put something together for the travel blog.
I am always amazed by the people who don't get excited about voting and election day. I love this! I think it is one of the greatest privileges we have as Americans. Don't get me wrong. I understand how the electoral process works and that it may take some of the joy out of it for many. But I still consider it our most powerful weapon when trying to get the attention of our elected officials.
Of the people in my Facebook friends list who have spent the last several years trying to bully people to think as they do, I wonder how many have already voted or will vote today. I hope all of them do. If their chosen candidate is the victor, I suppose it will give them bragging rights and if their candidate loses, perhaps it will give them closure. Although, I suppose it could just make them even more bitter and negative.
I enjoy the sense of community that I get when I go to vote. Seeing all of the little old people working at the voting place is nice. And listening to neighbors run into one another and discuss things in the neighborhood is also cool. It sort of makes me feel like this world isn't as big as I think most of the time. I live in a heavily populated part of the Metroplex, I guess all of the Metroplex is heavily populated. But I'm just going to say, this ain't Roanoke. But when I went to vote, I heard several conversations about past and upcoming block parties and issues with neighbors dogs and various other topics that implied that these were neighbors gathering to let their voices be heard. Kind of nice! Of course, I saw no one that I knew.... you know because I am anti social. But that's beside the point.
I voted a couple of weeks ago. It is the first time that I ever voted early. I did it because during the last presidential election, I stood in line for more than 2 hours to vote and so I wanted to avoid that. This year it may have taken me a total of 20 minutes to vote going two weeks prior to the election in the middle of a work day. I was happy that I didn't have to stand in line for a long time. But I sort of missed the excitement of voting on election day. At my polling place, there are always candidates standing at the edge of the parking lot where they are allowed to stand trying to get a few last minute votes which also means that there are always news vans and reporters standing around waiting to interview people and trying to get footage of the candidates talking to voters. It's sort of cool. It lends to the whole election day atmosphere.
I think the biggest disappointment of voting early is that I don't get to wear one of those "I Voted!" stickers around all day. I love wearing one of those stickers around. It's like you are wearing a sticker around that says "I'm an AMERICAN!" or "I'm Doing My Part!" I missed this part of the process so much that I just went and found myself a sticker on line. So, I'll share it with you....
If you are so inclined, feel free to print this out and cut the "I Voted" sticker out and pin it to your chest. I found this when I googled "I Voted stickers" and discovered that I am apparently not the only one who feels as I do about voting early and not getting a sticker as a result. If I could have gotten a sticker when I voted, I would have been wearing it around for the last two weeks.... By now, it would be all tattered and have scotch tape on the back trying to hold it to my clothes. But I'd still be wearing it around. My friends would come up to me and be like "You're not going to be able to sit with us if you don't take that thing off...." and so I would have to carefully remove it and wrap it in a tissue placing it in my purse when I went out to eat with friends. But I'd hang on to it. You can't take these things for granted.
Whether my candidate wins or loses, it is still a privilege that many men have fought and died for and I intend to honor that by voting every time I am given the opportunity. I saw a story on the news last week about a dying man whose daughter brought his ballot to him so that he could vote early prior to dying so that he wouldn't miss out on having his voice heard. He has already died and his vote still hasn't been counted. I think that is pretty amazing. I am sure you all know which way I lean, but I am not here to try to sway your vote today or to attempt to bully you into my way of thinking.... you know since that's how I roll.... Ha! I just wanted to offer you an "I Voted" sticker and encourage you to make your voice heard if you have not already done so.
Have a great day and Happy Election Day!!!!!
I am always amazed by the people who don't get excited about voting and election day. I love this! I think it is one of the greatest privileges we have as Americans. Don't get me wrong. I understand how the electoral process works and that it may take some of the joy out of it for many. But I still consider it our most powerful weapon when trying to get the attention of our elected officials.
Of the people in my Facebook friends list who have spent the last several years trying to bully people to think as they do, I wonder how many have already voted or will vote today. I hope all of them do. If their chosen candidate is the victor, I suppose it will give them bragging rights and if their candidate loses, perhaps it will give them closure. Although, I suppose it could just make them even more bitter and negative.
I enjoy the sense of community that I get when I go to vote. Seeing all of the little old people working at the voting place is nice. And listening to neighbors run into one another and discuss things in the neighborhood is also cool. It sort of makes me feel like this world isn't as big as I think most of the time. I live in a heavily populated part of the Metroplex, I guess all of the Metroplex is heavily populated. But I'm just going to say, this ain't Roanoke. But when I went to vote, I heard several conversations about past and upcoming block parties and issues with neighbors dogs and various other topics that implied that these were neighbors gathering to let their voices be heard. Kind of nice! Of course, I saw no one that I knew.... you know because I am anti social. But that's beside the point.
I voted a couple of weeks ago. It is the first time that I ever voted early. I did it because during the last presidential election, I stood in line for more than 2 hours to vote and so I wanted to avoid that. This year it may have taken me a total of 20 minutes to vote going two weeks prior to the election in the middle of a work day. I was happy that I didn't have to stand in line for a long time. But I sort of missed the excitement of voting on election day. At my polling place, there are always candidates standing at the edge of the parking lot where they are allowed to stand trying to get a few last minute votes which also means that there are always news vans and reporters standing around waiting to interview people and trying to get footage of the candidates talking to voters. It's sort of cool. It lends to the whole election day atmosphere.
I think the biggest disappointment of voting early is that I don't get to wear one of those "I Voted!" stickers around all day. I love wearing one of those stickers around. It's like you are wearing a sticker around that says "I'm an AMERICAN!" or "I'm Doing My Part!" I missed this part of the process so much that I just went and found myself a sticker on line. So, I'll share it with you....
If you are so inclined, feel free to print this out and cut the "I Voted" sticker out and pin it to your chest. I found this when I googled "I Voted stickers" and discovered that I am apparently not the only one who feels as I do about voting early and not getting a sticker as a result. If I could have gotten a sticker when I voted, I would have been wearing it around for the last two weeks.... By now, it would be all tattered and have scotch tape on the back trying to hold it to my clothes. But I'd still be wearing it around. My friends would come up to me and be like "You're not going to be able to sit with us if you don't take that thing off...." and so I would have to carefully remove it and wrap it in a tissue placing it in my purse when I went out to eat with friends. But I'd hang on to it. You can't take these things for granted.
Whether my candidate wins or loses, it is still a privilege that many men have fought and died for and I intend to honor that by voting every time I am given the opportunity. I saw a story on the news last week about a dying man whose daughter brought his ballot to him so that he could vote early prior to dying so that he wouldn't miss out on having his voice heard. He has already died and his vote still hasn't been counted. I think that is pretty amazing. I am sure you all know which way I lean, but I am not here to try to sway your vote today or to attempt to bully you into my way of thinking.... you know since that's how I roll.... Ha! I just wanted to offer you an "I Voted" sticker and encourage you to make your voice heard if you have not already done so.
Have a great day and Happy Election Day!!!!!
Monday, November 5, 2012
Day Two-Fifteen - My Unsolicited TV Opinions
My favorite TV show might be on tonight. But I'm not holding my breath. There is about a 75% chance that President Obama and Mitt Romney will do something that will mess up my chances of watching it for the 3rd week in a row. Tonight they are airing the Halloween episode of Hawaii 5-0 since it was pre-empted last week for Sandy coverage. I'm only planning to watch it because I have to get a Steve McGarrett fix. Otherwise, I would boycott it. I mean, who wants to watch a Halloween episode the week after Halloween? Maybe CBS will run It's the Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown as a lead in. The week before Sandy it was pre-empted for the final debate which took place after I had already voted. What is the point???? I realize that perhaps other people hadn't voted, but surely they had already formed an opinion at that point. I mean, this has been going on basically since January of 2009. If you still can't figure it out, one more debate 2 weeks before the election isn't going to help you out much.
I really can't stand Cristina, but I have so much fun mentally ridiculing her clothing choices! What in the hell goes through that woman's mind when she is standing in front of her closet with the door opened???!?!?!?! Is she really thinking, "Damn! I'd look good in any of this!" or is she thinking "Well, crap! I'm fat and all of these clothes are too tight but I have to put something on, maybe if I wear this top that is cut down to my belly button they won't notice the rolls while I'm sitting." News flash Princess!!!!! WE STILL SEE THE ROLLS!!!!!! I think I saw that tiara and sequined fan at Sam Moon last year when I took my niece shopping there.
We have entered the time of year when it really matters if you watch a TV show in a timely manner. Otherwise, you could end up watching a DVR'd Thanksgiving dinner for your favorite sitcom in mid December and nobody wants to see that happening. This is one of the reasons that I watch very few scripted TV shows. It's just easier my way. If I only watch reality TV, it really doesn't matter when Tyra tells one of the girls that the need to "smize" or "tooch" more. Those kinds of constructive criticisms are always relevant!
With reality TV as long as you watch the episodes in the correct order you could watch them on any day of the year. I mean, it can totally mess up your DVR watching if you see someone get blindsided on Survivor and then start the next episode on your DVR and that person who you just saw getting blindsided is planning to eliminate another person. Then all of your comments aimed at the TV for that entire episode are telling him or her that they can make all the plans they want, but they are in for a big surprise!!!! Let me clarify, I don't actually sit and talk to my TV much. But while I am watching reality TV if I am home alone, I do have a running commentary going on in my head. Occasionally, a random "What the Hell????!!?!?" May slip out. But generally it is all contained within my head.
Now when I watch reality TV with a friend, all bets are off. Because I have a comment about nearly everything that takes place on a reality TV show. And when you watch it with another person, part of the joy of watching reality TV is ridiculing the participants. Most of the time, my thoughts center on what the host or producers might be thinking. Like, on The Bachelor when a couple is mugging down in a hot tub, is Chris Harrison standing off to the side looking at his watch and thinking, "I could be having dinner right now"? Or is he watching it on a monitor somewhere and giggling with a big group of people about how this guy was just saying he had no chemistry with this girl, but he is mugging down with her in the hot tub anyway before he gets rid of her at the end of the episode?
One of my favorites is Iron Chef America. I wish the host would be on their more. He cracks me up the way he turns his head to the knife sounds! I laugh out loud everytime! I also like that you can watch it without worrying if you are watching it in any particular order since each episode there is just a random chef competing against one of the Iron Chefs and there is no weekly elimination process. There is something to be said for the reality show when each episode stands on it's own.
What I really find funny is the people who really get into the reality TV participants. This is especially common for some reason on American Idol and Dancing with the Stars both of which I had to stop watching. You hear people talk about contestants as though they are personal friends. You can be in line at Starbucks and hear something like this "Oh my God! Did you see David last night? He looked so good and I loved that song he sang." I'm thinking to myself, hmmmm... I wonder if David performs here every night. Then I find out that he was on American Idol and this woman has never been with 1,000 miles of him in her life. I stopped watching Dancing with the Stars for what I think are obvious reasons. Those people that they have on there now are not "stars". If I have to google the "stars" to find out who they are and then I still don't know, they are not qualified to be on the show. The title needs to be changed to Dancing with Semi Celebrities and Has Beens.
American Idol drove me nuts with the judges. I haven't watched it since they started changing them all out and I won't. But when the original three were still on, the typical comments after a performance went as follows:
Randy: "Dawg, that was a little pitchy for me....dawg.... I don't know.... I wish you had picked another song... but you did okay....
Paula: "You look beautiful in that outfit! You just move me with your stage presence, but you had some pitchy moments.... Oh! You just sparkled when you turned in the light....I'm sorry, I think I just passed out for a second!"
Simon: "If I'm being perfectly honest, I didn't like it..... What??!?!!?!? Why am I being booed? I'm just saying exactly what you will say when you go home and watch this on TV."
Contestant: "Thank you very much for all of your helpful criticism."
Ryan: "Be sure to tune in to my radio show tomorrow, because I need the ratings... After all, I've only made $10M this week. Now here's a live commercial that we just threw together for Ford and Coca-Cola combined!!!"
As far as reality musical performance shows go, I like The Voice, but I must confess that once they get past the rounds where they have buzzers to hit, I don't like it as much. I guess that makes me kind of pathetic. But I like it when there is an immediate response to what is happening on the stage. At first I didn't like Adam Levine, but now I think he is pretty funny and he has pretty good taste in performers. I'm going to be kind of sad next season when Cristina and Cee Lo take the season off.
I really can't stand Cristina, but I have so much fun mentally ridiculing her clothing choices! What in the hell goes through that woman's mind when she is standing in front of her closet with the door opened???!?!?!?! Is she really thinking, "Damn! I'd look good in any of this!" or is she thinking "Well, crap! I'm fat and all of these clothes are too tight but I have to put something on, maybe if I wear this top that is cut down to my belly button they won't notice the rolls while I'm sitting." News flash Princess!!!!! WE STILL SEE THE ROLLS!!!!!! I think I saw that tiara and sequined fan at Sam Moon last year when I took my niece shopping there.
And Cee Lo.... I don't even know where to begin. Last year he had the cat, this year a pink cockatoo. The man (and I use that term loosely) is a freak. I am not questioning his manhood, nor do I care about that. I just wonder if he is human. I saw one article on the internet in which he was described as "a tiny round alien". That was probably the best description I have seen. My parents were here a few weeks ago and I watched it for a few minutes with my Dad and he finally looked over at me and said "What IS that person?" My response was that I wasn't sure.
Look at that picture! Now, that's some fine looking man right there.... Who wouldn't be turned on by a 5 foot tall 200 pound man wearing a satin Good Humor outfit with a pink cockatoo on his shoulder. I don't know about you ladies, but I might have to go take a cold shower.
I don't really have much to say about Blake. He just strikes me as a big dumb white guy. But at least he is normal looking. If I were one of the contestants and all 4 judges turned around for me, there is no doubt that I would pick Adam Levine as my coach. It just seems like he has more music sense than the other three.
Well, I have a lot to do today. It is another business series luncheon day and I have some trips to research, so I will talk to you all tomorrow. Hopefully, tomorrow I'll be able to do a travel blog so that you can read about things other than my opinions on reality TV and pink cockatoos.
Have a great week!
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Day Two-Thirteen - Our Tree
Today is Stephen F. Austin's 220th birthday... That is, if he had lived past 1836 it would have been his 220th birthday. So, if you listen to the Ticket, you would probably think, as I do, that he is a "born on this day now dead". Yes, that is exactly what he is. I'm going to the SFA football game tonight. Maybe they'll have a ceremony or tribute at halftime.
I have a yaupon holly tree on my patio. I love the tree but was planning to trim it back this spring and never did. I will definitely do it next spring. The only concern I have about doing it and the thing that has kept me from doing it for several years is the Mockingbird that calls it home. He has lived in the tree for about 6 years. I didn't even know that birds lived that long. His mate certainly didn't live that long. We have a connection, that Mockingbird and I. You see, his mate is the bird that Jingle caught on the patio 6 years ago and brought into the house, through the living room, up the stairs, down the hall into my bedroom and dropped in the bathroom when I screamed. Then the bird flew into the bathroom mirror during the state of hysteria that ensued by all three of us, Jingle, the bird and myself. Once she was unconscious, you know, from repeatedly flying into the mirror, I picked her up and took her little body out and "disposed" of it.
I'm not sure if her mate thinks she just flew away that morning and will someday be back, or if he knows that she died there and so he remains in tribute or exactly what the situation is, but he now resides in the tree. He roosts there every night. He eats the berries that the tree produces year round and he waits. Cardinals love the berries too, but the Mockingbird does his best to keep them out of his tree. My cats watch him all the time. He watches them too. I hope that they have all reached an understanding. I couldn't take it if Jingle brought him in the house one day. I try to keep an eye on the situation. If things start getting too cozy, I walk out and scare the bird back up higher in the tree. But I can only do so much.
Several weeks ago when Mom and Dad were here for the garage sale, Dad had a close encounter with the Mockingbird. While Dad sat out on the patio and read, the bird sat above him in the tree and had a little "accident" on Dad's shirt. It didn't dawn on me to warn him that a bird sits in the tree almost constantly. And it is, after all, the birds tree, I mean, I walk past it and hang stuff off of it. But he actually lives in it!
I brought it up today because this morning he is very busy keeping all of the Cardinals and squirrels out of his tree while also keeping an eye on both of my cats. I think he is up to the challenge but it is very noisy on my patio right now as a result. An angry Mockingbird, a chattering squirrel and a multitude of hungry Cardinals are making nearly as much noise as people breaking concrete. Okay, maybe I exaggerate slightly. And even if it was as loud as the concrete breaking, I'd still pay to hear the birds and squirrels over the concrete guys. So I'll stop complaining and go outside to finish my coffee and give the Mockingbird a little moral support.
I have a yaupon holly tree on my patio. I love the tree but was planning to trim it back this spring and never did. I will definitely do it next spring. The only concern I have about doing it and the thing that has kept me from doing it for several years is the Mockingbird that calls it home. He has lived in the tree for about 6 years. I didn't even know that birds lived that long. His mate certainly didn't live that long. We have a connection, that Mockingbird and I. You see, his mate is the bird that Jingle caught on the patio 6 years ago and brought into the house, through the living room, up the stairs, down the hall into my bedroom and dropped in the bathroom when I screamed. Then the bird flew into the bathroom mirror during the state of hysteria that ensued by all three of us, Jingle, the bird and myself. Once she was unconscious, you know, from repeatedly flying into the mirror, I picked her up and took her little body out and "disposed" of it.
I'm not sure if her mate thinks she just flew away that morning and will someday be back, or if he knows that she died there and so he remains in tribute or exactly what the situation is, but he now resides in the tree. He roosts there every night. He eats the berries that the tree produces year round and he waits. Cardinals love the berries too, but the Mockingbird does his best to keep them out of his tree. My cats watch him all the time. He watches them too. I hope that they have all reached an understanding. I couldn't take it if Jingle brought him in the house one day. I try to keep an eye on the situation. If things start getting too cozy, I walk out and scare the bird back up higher in the tree. But I can only do so much.
Several weeks ago when Mom and Dad were here for the garage sale, Dad had a close encounter with the Mockingbird. While Dad sat out on the patio and read, the bird sat above him in the tree and had a little "accident" on Dad's shirt. It didn't dawn on me to warn him that a bird sits in the tree almost constantly. And it is, after all, the birds tree, I mean, I walk past it and hang stuff off of it. But he actually lives in it!
I brought it up today because this morning he is very busy keeping all of the Cardinals and squirrels out of his tree while also keeping an eye on both of my cats. I think he is up to the challenge but it is very noisy on my patio right now as a result. An angry Mockingbird, a chattering squirrel and a multitude of hungry Cardinals are making nearly as much noise as people breaking concrete. Okay, maybe I exaggerate slightly. And even if it was as loud as the concrete breaking, I'd still pay to hear the birds and squirrels over the concrete guys. So I'll stop complaining and go outside to finish my coffee and give the Mockingbird a little moral support.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Day Two-Twelve - Concrete is NOISY!
The parking lot in my condos has cracks in the concrete and a few low spots. It needs to be repaired. I have known for a while that they were supposed to do it. I wouldn't have thought that they would work on it beginning at 7 a.m. the last two days. One of the spots that needed work, is directly in front of my unit.
Their process consists of cutting the concrete with some sort of huge, powerful and loud saw. Then they bring this machine in that has a loud engine. It takes it a long time to get in place and the entire time that it is moving the loud engine is being revved up. Once it is finally in place, then it begins to pound on the concrete that the saw cut around. It pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds... you get the point. It finally stops pounding when all of the concrete is in the size of small peas or I go insane and run out screaming like a banshee whichever happens first.
The next step is the removal of the now pea sized chunks of concrete. Apparently this step in the process is all done by very loud Hispanic men and part of the requirement is that they yell at one another the entire time they do it. In there defense, there is very good chance that they don't even know that they are yelling at one another. They probably lost their hearing some years ago from being around that pounding machine all day long. Because as you maybe aware, it pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds...
Now here's the interesting part, they throw the broken concrete into the back of a truck, but between the time they throw it and the time it lands in the steel dump truck, it seems to multiply in size from the size of a pea to the size of one of those boulders that Wyle E. Coyote was always pulling off the edge of a cliff onto himself when the Roadrunner would pass by. There is no box of TNT under their boulders, but they are almost as noisy as they would be if a box of TNT were in the mix.
I am sure that after this step in the process they will find a remarkably loud way of pouring fresh concrete. Because really what's the point in doing it if you can't make everyone in the area miserable while you do it. But apparently, they are done for the day and won't start the loudest possible process known to man of pouring concrete until 7 a.m. tomorrow. Maybe people in this line of work are only allowed to work from 7 a.m. until 9 a.m. Maybe there is some concrete breakers and loaders union that sets these guidelines. The United Loud and Obnoxious Concrete Workers of America or the ULOCWA as I'm sure it is known amongst the men since it would take a lot longer to sign the full name and we've already established that they all must be deaf from the loud pounding thing that they are subjected to between 7 and 9 every morning probably only allows them to work for 2 hours a day so that their ears aren't subjected to the pounding thing for longer than necessary. Naturally, the ULOCWA would chose that the two hours begin at 7 a.m. so that these guys can leave here at 9 and start their 2nd job as guys who blow leaves into the street with those really loud gas powered blowers that just run constantly all day long.
Here's the thing with leaf blowers, you could cut the time that you blow leaves with it in half, if you picked the leaves up and put them in a bag and hauled them away rather than just blowing them out into the street so that by the time you get to the end of the sidewalk the wind and passing cars have blown them all back onto the area that you have already blown off resulting in you turning around and doing the same area all over again. But I am sure that the United Loud and Obnoxious Leaf Blowers of America doesn't allow it's workers to bend over and pick those leaves up putting them in bags. That would be too hard on their backs and those poor men are already deaf, you can't allow their backs to go out too!!! So really the ULOLBA is doing them a favor by not allowing them to bend over and pick the leaves up.
Well, I have stuff to do today.... one of those things is to find out if there is enough Advil in the world to get rid of my headache. The jury is still out on that. Have a good Friday. For those of you who had your Friday yesterday have a good whatever you call this day since there can't be two Saturday's.
Their process consists of cutting the concrete with some sort of huge, powerful and loud saw. Then they bring this machine in that has a loud engine. It takes it a long time to get in place and the entire time that it is moving the loud engine is being revved up. Once it is finally in place, then it begins to pound on the concrete that the saw cut around. It pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds... you get the point. It finally stops pounding when all of the concrete is in the size of small peas or I go insane and run out screaming like a banshee whichever happens first.
The next step is the removal of the now pea sized chunks of concrete. Apparently this step in the process is all done by very loud Hispanic men and part of the requirement is that they yell at one another the entire time they do it. In there defense, there is very good chance that they don't even know that they are yelling at one another. They probably lost their hearing some years ago from being around that pounding machine all day long. Because as you maybe aware, it pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds, and pounds, and pounds and pounds, and pounds...
Now here's the interesting part, they throw the broken concrete into the back of a truck, but between the time they throw it and the time it lands in the steel dump truck, it seems to multiply in size from the size of a pea to the size of one of those boulders that Wyle E. Coyote was always pulling off the edge of a cliff onto himself when the Roadrunner would pass by. There is no box of TNT under their boulders, but they are almost as noisy as they would be if a box of TNT were in the mix.
I am sure that after this step in the process they will find a remarkably loud way of pouring fresh concrete. Because really what's the point in doing it if you can't make everyone in the area miserable while you do it. But apparently, they are done for the day and won't start the loudest possible process known to man of pouring concrete until 7 a.m. tomorrow. Maybe people in this line of work are only allowed to work from 7 a.m. until 9 a.m. Maybe there is some concrete breakers and loaders union that sets these guidelines. The United Loud and Obnoxious Concrete Workers of America or the ULOCWA as I'm sure it is known amongst the men since it would take a lot longer to sign the full name and we've already established that they all must be deaf from the loud pounding thing that they are subjected to between 7 and 9 every morning probably only allows them to work for 2 hours a day so that their ears aren't subjected to the pounding thing for longer than necessary. Naturally, the ULOCWA would chose that the two hours begin at 7 a.m. so that these guys can leave here at 9 and start their 2nd job as guys who blow leaves into the street with those really loud gas powered blowers that just run constantly all day long.
Here's the thing with leaf blowers, you could cut the time that you blow leaves with it in half, if you picked the leaves up and put them in a bag and hauled them away rather than just blowing them out into the street so that by the time you get to the end of the sidewalk the wind and passing cars have blown them all back onto the area that you have already blown off resulting in you turning around and doing the same area all over again. But I am sure that the United Loud and Obnoxious Leaf Blowers of America doesn't allow it's workers to bend over and pick those leaves up putting them in bags. That would be too hard on their backs and those poor men are already deaf, you can't allow their backs to go out too!!! So really the ULOLBA is doing them a favor by not allowing them to bend over and pick the leaves up.
Well, I have stuff to do today.... one of those things is to find out if there is enough Advil in the world to get rid of my headache. The jury is still out on that. Have a good Friday. For those of you who had your Friday yesterday have a good whatever you call this day since there can't be two Saturday's.
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