95 and still going

Ya know, at MY age, you'd think I'd seen it all.

But I gotta tell you, some things still manage to surprise me.

Some good, some .... not so good.

Take my friend's son. He finally thought he found the perfect woman. We were all happy for him.

Now, he's in thereapy.








I turned 95 the other day and my friends had gotten on the internet to cruise for something special for me to wear.









Mad Maddie said she found the PERFECT gift for me. She guaranteed it would make me feel young and frisky again. Oh Wow! Something from that saucy Victoria's Secret I was sure .....
*sigh*
We don't call her Mad Maddie for nothing....





Yep, turning 95 is the pits when the only firm and hard thing I can get excited about are party hats with pics of delicious younger men .

*sigh* The good old days, when the hat covered the man, ( Or not, if we were really lucky) -

I heard there's a movement ( I love movements, more than ever before)

that has people using rubber in interesting ways. Frisky Fred came by the other day to demonstrate.

Have to admit, he's got great traction.

Hey, at my age .... you can't be picky, cuz I'm runnin' outta men to pick.

*wink*

An experiment

I found the cutest thing on one of my bars on my computer. I discovered a plethora of free screen savers. So cool and exciting. Another item of interest was weird and wacky cursers. I'm not too sure if they are going to work, but I'm game to try. So, bear with the chaos. Thanks!









I love a cat with good hygiene, don't you?

OK, after the pictures of all that swimming and partying and celebrating the end of summer, it's now the weekend. Time to unwind, unravel and unhinge. Have a great weekend everyone!!!! 

COWABUNGA!! Now THIS is worth swimming in to celebrate the end of summer. 

The End of Summer Bash. Let's go on a last fling with a bunch of guys that know how to PARTAY!!!! But tell me, WHY do people wear BLACK socks with SANDALS????? I understand the black tube, but socks??? Look at them, it is "warm", why the socks? I just don't get it. I never get it. socks.....or forget it, last one to the watering hole gets a date with one of these savvy dudes! 

Can you imagine the fury that inspired this? OUCH! Here's a little bit more of a chuckle for you ................. Ready? A 5-year-old boy went to visit his grandmother one day.

Playing with his toys in her bedroom while grandma was dusting, he looked
up and said, "Grandma, how come you don't have a boyfriend now that Grandpa
went to heaven?"

Grandma replied, "Honey, my TV is my boyfriend. I can sit in my bedroom and
watch it all day long. The religious programs make me feel good and the
comedies make me laugh. I'm happy with my TV as my boyfriend."

Grandma turned on the TV, and the reception was terrible.
She started adjusting the knobs, trying to get the picture in
focus.

Frustrated, she started hitting the backside of the TV
hoping to fix the problem.

The little boy heard the doorbell ring, so he hurried to open the door, and
there stood Grandma's minister.

The minister said, "Hello, son, is your Grandma home?"

The little boy replied, "Yeah, she's in the bedroom bangin' her boyfriend."

The minister fainted.
 

I lost a friend this weekend. So forgive me if I'm retrospecitve, maudlin and serious. I thought this was poetic and beautiful, like she was. Do me a favor, Hug your family, your loved ones, today. Life is too damed short. It passes in a blink of an eye ..... 

No time for this anymore *sigh* ... relaxing I mean...geesh. " Looking" you can do at any time. 

Oh Dear, life changes

Life is not stagnant - even when you want it to be.
Do nothing and the world goes on - it's up to you to be a partof it and meet the challenge of the ride or get off and, well, die.

Humans need stimulation. We are a social people, aren't we?

After 6 1/2 years of being stimulated by at-home antics, I'm rejoining the extended world of working moms.

Only part time, but it is a start. What that means is that I will not be the avid, zealous blogger that I've been since I started. I know that I will probably not be able to keep up with the 40 or so sites that I hop about in.

In advance, I extend my apologies and my sincere regret for the great blogs I'll miss - I'll see them , but not necessarily on a timely basis , i.e. contests, guest bloggers and stuff.

I may be relegated to, *gasp*, professional lurker.

It'll take me awhile to reconfigure and balance my home life, work life and church life.
Time to grow up. My conversation can no longer be restricted to potty humor, Pokemon and Maya and Miguel (PBS).


I will still try to write, but it will be more of a challenge to be consistent.
I'll be excercising my brain in a whole new way and I think I'll be fried for a bit, but I promise to continue, even if all I write is babble.

What is my schedule?
Monday - Church crafts - clean house And some Mondays has a movie group I 've joined
Tues, Wed, Thur -work
BUT - Wed is also Scripture study or Parish Council or Life Threatening Food Allergy meetings
Thursday is Woman's club meeting
Friday - Kitchen Sink day-clean, errands, appts, PM is Church Crafts
Saturday - Church Crafts/pie making/ jelly making

Our club has things going on.

Oct - Halloween party for all parish families
and we are putting on the reception after an Estate Planning seminar
Nov - is the big Taste of the Holidays that we are doing for the first time. So far we made Kitchen Angels. We will be making homemade dog bones. Already we've made Port Wine Jelly, Hot red pepper jam, Cinnamon jam and a bunch of others. We have apple, apple raisen, blueberry, peach and rhubarb pies.
We also take orders for the Thanksgiving holiday
Dec - we will do outreach to area schools for Christmas - for those kids that come from impoverished families, we will provide some toys, winter coats, under clothes if needed and a few other items of needed outerwear if indicated.
Jan is our "Thank goodness it's over" party after the holidays
Feb is my baby - Book swap. We ask that families clean out books that their kids no longer read. On the day of the event, we give them a bag and they fill it with whatever they want. No cost to anyone but a turning over of books to encourage reading. If someone only has one book to trade, doesn't matter. We encourage those that don't have a lot to come grab some books because reading is SO important - we should encourage it in our children.
What better way than FREE????
Whatever is left over, we donate to area shelters that assist kids.

THEN! Come February, I officially resign as president. After four years. I. Am. Done.

True, this is not busy compared to many women out there. But for me, this is busy.

I'm sure I've bored you to tears with the TMI of my life. But rest assured that even if I'm not actively blogging as I once was, you are in my thoughts ( "What am I missing????")

If anything, maybe I'll just put a :-) in the comment section so you know, like the Whos in Whoville, that "I'm here! I'm here!!!"

So, wish me luck as I dive off the deep end of my nervousness and tackle a new path in my life.

Thanks to the Calgary Football Mom for this one…..

{Actually, thanks to my SIL for emailing this to me , so I can post it here and share it with you!}

Here's a truly heartwarming story about the bond formed between a little 5 year old girl and some construction workers that makes you believe that we CAN make a difference when we give a child the gift of our time...

A young family moved into a house, next door to a vacant lot. One day a construction crew turned up to start building a houseon the empty lot. The young family's 5-year-old daughter naturally took an interest in all the activity going on next door and spent much of each day observing the workers.

Eventually the construction crew, all of them gems-in-the-rough, more or less adopted her as a kind of project mascot. They chatted with her, let her sit with them while they had coffee and lunch breaks, and gave her little jobs to do here and there to make her feel important.

At the end of the first week they even presented her with a pay envelope containing a couple of dollars. The little girl took this home to her mother who said all the appropriate words of admiration and suggested that they take the two dollar "pay" she had received to the bank the next day to start a savings account.

When they got to the bank, the teller was equally impressed and asked the little girl how she had come by her very own pay check at such a young age.

The little girl proudly replied, "I worked last week with the crew building the house next door to us."

"My goodness gracious," said the teller, "and will you be working on the house again this week, too?"

The little girl replied, "I will if those assholes at Home Depot ever deliver the f~*&cking sheet rock..."

Kind of brings a tear to the eye.

If only our children remembered half of what the teachers tell them at school we would all be raising geniuses!

Happy Tuesday to you!

And remember, Life's no fun if you live in a bubble!

Like Many, I Remember -

Gross is Great

Oh, Gross!

This is so disgusting, I have to read more. I can't stop. I'm addicted to the bizarre, the kinky and the things that make you want to toss your cookies.

I'm finding out about things I've secretly always wondered about but was too civilized to ask.

Truthfully, who WOULD I ask these questions of?

Not my parents - they'd have a coronary.
Not my friends- we're close but not THAT close.
Not my priest - I'd never leave the confessional without one hundred penance prayers for atonement.
Not my Doctor - He'd have me on pills and in therapy with a flick of his bic.

So, who?

A book. A lovely experience best done alone, behind closed doors and without interruption.

I speak of:

THAT'S DISGUSTING! - An Adult Guide to What's Gross, Tasteless, Rude, Crude and Lewd by Greta Garbage.

Gathers over 1,000 disgusting stories and fascinating facts on such subjects as freaks, breasts, celebrity pukers, castration, and enemas and high colonics

Ever have a curiosity about HOW they make it work when a man turns into a woman?

Ever wonder which celebrity has the biggest pecker? Those that watch 24 will be happy. Fans of a certain bald Englishman will be astounded! Even one for whom we all know his name has a first name that is Quite apropo, *giggle*

Did you know that cockroaches fart every 15 minutes?

Kinky sex is more than what you find in Erotic Romance books. I've yet to see someone turned on by pie throwing. They're called Piesexuals.

How about sex with a crocodile? (um, no, I've never wondered about that, thank you)

Never mind sex with snakes, fish, ants and kitchen appliances. Like I said, never mind.

You know the ONE thing not mentioned? Balloons? Can you believe it? How can you not mention balloons?

Balloon animals everywhere are insulted.

******************

I tell you, I could not put this book down, or stop my eyes from bulging in shock or my giggle reflex stifled.

This is one book guaranteed NOT to bore you. The thing is, will you dare read it?

I dedicate this post to Mitch

In her comments from my previous post, Mitch asked if I was writing. Yep. Wanna a look? Word count is now 1354. It was 1200. See? You get more words when you write. Right? LOL

Since many of my visitors are romance readers, I'm hoping this little one will entertain and not bore you. If you want exciting crash 'em/smash 'ems, I'm working on that. It's one of my challenges. I found my hook yesterday, now I have to write it. Anyway, today's offering is:


What's in a name?


Carolina Beacham rolled her eyes in amused exasperation at her mom. Once again, she had to think of a way to get around one of her mother's thinly disguised attempts at matchmaking. This time, just the name of the intended victim had her running.

What was that name again? Oh yeah, Euclid. Who would name their son Euclid?

Carol shook her head, she didn‘t want to know. Her own moniker had caused a few raised eyebrows. Showing any kind of interest is what usually did her in. It was all the incentive her mom needed to push the emotional guilt buttons. Her advice always included the line “try him on for size” and Carol usually chuckled at that. Her mom’s choice of phraseology was a part of her charm. Still, the name, Euclid …

Look who’s talking. Give it up, Carol, what’s in a name anyway?

She picked up her jacket and purse and walked two steps towards the door before her mom's voice stopped her.

"Carolina! Carolina dear, I’ve just remembered something. Could you pick up the two pies I ordered from Mrs. Lane's bakery? I’ve already called her and she said everything is ready. We're having our new neighbors, the Delacortes, over for dinner and their son is home visiting from college. Didn't I tell you? You know how boys like to eat. You can never have too much pie."

Carol snickered to herself. Her mom thought food was the answer to everything. Feeling blue? Have some cookies and milk. Had a bad day? A hunk of icing covered cake cured all ills. Boy troubles? Anything chocolate should do it. Mom would dip into her secret stash of Godiva and share while listening to Carol's tale of woe. Sometimes, just sharing the mutual joy of food was all the conversation needed.

"I got it covered, Mom. Two apple pies from Mrs. Lane's."

"And?"

"I'll bring the ice cream?"

"And ...?"

Carol grinned "And, I'll dress for the occasion. I promise."

Carol blew her mom a kiss and headed out the door with a light heart. She loved living a small town life with its simple pleasures. You never had to lock your door or your car and trust between neighbors was alive and well. It's not a wonder that she had stayed and found work and an apartment in town after college.

The summer sun and moisture laden air wrapped heated arms around her as soon as she stepped off of the porch. Her sundress started to mold itself to her ample feminine curves, sticky from the sweat already beading on her skin. Carol fanned her skirt with fluttering motions in a feeble attempt to cool her skin. She couldn't wait to turn on her car's AC.

Her steps were brisk as she followed the walkway around the porch that led to her car. As soon as she opened the door, her face got slammed with a furnace blast of heat. Carol tried to avoid burning herself on the hot steering wheel by reaching in at an angle to turn the key which she'd left in the ignition. It wasn't there.

She knew without a doubt that she'd left the key in. Her chipper mood began to fray as she leaned farther in, hoping to find the keychain in the shadows under the driver's seat. Sweat collected in earnest, beading and rolling between her breasts and down her back. Not finding her keys and feeling short of breath because of the intense heat, she gave up in disgust. The skirt of her sundress started to ride up her thighs as she backed out of the car. The sound of a throat clearing startled Carol into losing her balance. Scrambling back off the hot leather seat, her sundress twisted upwards to reveal hot pink lace and a heated blush stained her cheeks as she spun around.

She didn’t know whether to scream or curse while plucking at the clinging fabric when her fingers froze in place. Her unvoiced anger faded as her gaze feasted on the man before her. Carol’s eyes flared wide and her breath shifted into excited pants. A sensual heat started to burn and curl inside her body, volcanic compared to the heat of her car.

Leaning against the stucco covered corner of her parent's home was a stranger. He spoke not a word but his eyes danced with dark amusement. Well muscled arms crossed over his chest, making his white muscle T-shirt ride up enough for her to get a tantalizing view of his taut stomach. She was hypnotized by the line of dark hair that teased her senses down to the black leather belt. Hard muscled thighs covered by poured-on blue jeans made her palms itch to touch. He still said nothing, but his eyes never left her face, watching her watch him. Carol dared to look her fill, noticing the definition of his chest , his biceps and down and across towards his hands ... his hands.

Her eyes flew up to his, a demand in their depths. The man pushed himself off of the wall and took a step towards her. He slowly uncrossed his arms from his chest and extended his right arm towards her. Opening his hand palm up, he revealed her key chain.

"Hey!" Carol shouted in shocked anger." Just what do you think you are doing with my keys? I knew I left them in there. What gives you the right to go into my car? Who are you?"

He stared at her for a moment more. His eyes crinkled in the corners as he smiled at her with amusement. She found it hard not to drown in his eyes when his gaze was the color of Godiva chocolate. His voice was smooth even though it held a tone of slight admonishment.

"Just being a good neighbor with a friendly warning about the dangers of leaving keys in the ignition of a car. You never know who’ll walk by. A beautiful woman can’t be too careful these days, even in a small town.”

Carol didn’t know whether she should strangle him or moon over him. She decided to tackle the first part of his comment instead.

"It is not neighborly to take my keys. I know all of my parent's neighbors around here. You, sir, are a stranger!"

His lips quirked and he gave a short jerk of his head in acknowledgement.

"I can fix that.” He grinned with dashing aplomb, “Hello, I'm Euclid Delacorte."

Carol was stunned. This was Euclid Delacorte home from school? He was "the boy" with the odd name?

“I’m studying for my Masters but when I can, I drop by to see my parents. I’m glad I chose today, for obvious reasons.”

Euclid held out the key ring to her as he stepped closer. She reached out her hand to take them. As her fingers touched the metal he enclosed his tanned hand over both. His grasp was warm, strong yet gentle. The volcanic heat inside her body jumped to eruptive proportions.

"I know your last name is Beacham, but not your first. Care to share? Seems only fair as you know mine.”

"Carolina." Her voice came out as a breathless whisper.

“Carolina Beacham?” An grin burst across his face, showing even white teeth.

Carol blinked and blinked again. It took a moment for what he said next to register through her lust scrambled brain.

"What?"

Euclid chuckled. "Interesting name they stuck you with, Carolina."

The irony of his statement didn’t escape her and her eyes glinted with gentle humor.

"My friends call me Carol.”

"Well, Carol Beacham, since our parents are neighbors, don‘t you think we should be friends too?"

Carol felt a physical thrill with Euclid's words. In the sunlight, his eyes looked like sparkling chocolate. He cocked his head to the side in contemplation.

"Carolina and Euclid, what a pair we'll make."

Letting go of her hand and key chain, he laughed.

"What's in a name anyway?"

Her sudden smile was wide and generous. Maybe her mom was right after all.

"Euclid, I hope you like apple pie!"


The Beginning....
(OK, being a little cheeky there)

And yes, I probably used "chocolate" a bit too much. But, hey, I LOVE me my chocolate. :-)

On an aside, when I saw this pic, he became the hero in my story.
My inspiration

Thanks for visiting today. Hope you enjoyed yourself. If not, Check out yesterday's post with the weird Squeaker thingy.
Bye!

Why?

Now that school has started again, I have time to think.

WHY?

No, not "why do I think", (smarty pants) but the question of "why?" as in " this or that. "

During my Google searches I've seen quite a few oddities and have come up with some questions.

Why is it that the majority of butt tattoos appear on female butts?

tamest

the exception

good advice





Why is there such a thing as Balloon sex? I'm not talking latex here - that I can get the gist of. But balloons? And NO, I'm not posting pics of that

- it's way too graphic. Ick.

OK. OK. You really want to see some, don't you ....? Fine.

Here.

Like I said. ICK!!!

And last question for the day.

Why do guys persist in needing such juvenile toys?

I mean, when they were babes, they had squeakie toys and rattles and do-dads that made chiming sounds. You'd think they would have outgrown these urges as adult men.

Alas, I've found that they never outgrow their squeakie toys.

Now, I ask you, WHY????

Hats off to you

I was in the mood to surf. In decades past, wearing hat was not only a fashion statement, but a must for any outfit to be complete.

Wow! Things sure have changed!



I have NO idea what he's supposed to be. Or who.






















I LOVE the Elephant hat , though.

Some hats still make a splash and make a person look fine

Or am I distracted?

This little pic is pushing the hat into an area I never knew existed!

I have absolutely NO idea what 'normalized data' is, I just can't get over his pom-poms!!

I guess no matter what you wear, the hat can make or break a first impression.

So, take off the hat, right?

HAPPY LABOR DAY!!!

Factoids

I'm in the mood for facts. Must be because I am clueless about a few things right now.

Nope, not sharing about that.

I would enjoy talking about .... vinegar.

Sass and vineger? Alas, no.

Real vinegar.

Balsamic.
I was amazed to learn that it is as valuable as one hundred year old wines.
Maybe because it was fermented and aged for hundreds of years, not one hundred, but plural. HUNDREDS. Blew my mind. It was once a family art form for private use. There is actually a TRUE aceto balsamico - made in the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy near Modena.

Today's balsamic vinegar - and here' s what else I didn't know that blew my mind - is controlled by the Italian government. The minimum age of the product is 12 YEARS.

Isnt' that amazing?

Here's another vingegar that was a major let down for me.

Champagne Vinegar.
I thought, "Cool! Champagne! Must have an awesome flavor.

Fooled me. It has NOTHING to do with the drink, everything to do with a district in France.

Bummer.

Scenario:

You are driving in a car at a constant speed. On your left side is a valley
And on your right side is a fire engine traveling at the same speed as
You.

In front of you is a galloping pig which is the same size as your car and
You cannot overtake it. Behind you is a helicopter flying at ground level.
Both the giant pig and the helicopter are also traveling at the same speed
As you. What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous
Situation?



Page down


















Answer:

Get off the children's Merry-Go-Round, you're drunk.

Sounds like this is going to be needed, eh?