I’m baaaaack. Sort of, maybe.

This post was started several years ago, and here I am again!

This is ... My Year(s) Of Living Dangerously

Everyone has bucket lists; but this is not a list of what I want to do before I die, this is more a list of what I want to do while I live.  These is my year of stretching outside of my comfort zone, trying something new, not worrying about embarrassment.  I'm not going to wait until I lose ten pounds or have more time or whatever excuses I've been using recently.

In no particular order:

1. Ride a mechanical bull.
2. Run a 5K (apparently there is no such thing as a 3K, dammit)
3. Do a polar plunge one New Year’s Day (or at least in an unheated pool)
4. Go hot air ballooning 
   
   
   5. Lose 15 pounds (okay, ten)
   6.  Go back to school and get an associate’s degree before I’m too old….  Hahaha! I’m already too old!

#1 SUCCESS!!

#2 SUCCESS!! (Did the Hot Chocolate run with my friend, Sam Spenny Wilkerson.  She bullied me into it. Sort of….)

#5  SUCCESS!! (decided I didn’t want or need to lose weight)

The Sad Tale of a Would-Be Good Samaritan & Things That Are Dead

*** This is a true story. Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent ***

Wait. Change that. There were only three characters in this story: one is dead and the other barely spoke English.  I'm probably safe.

A few years ago I was on my way to work when I saw something odd ahead of me on the road. There was a little old man standing in the center of a rather busy street next to a small, blanket-covered object. There are five lanes total on Mollison Avenue - two east, two west, and a center turn lane.

As I got closer, I saw the man holding what appeared to be a cup of coffee and he just kept looking down at the blanket. And I thought, "Oh crap. Somebody's dog's been hit and no one is even stopping."  Cars were just whizzing by, and this little old man is standing there alone.  I felt bad.

I do realize that rarely do bereaved people enjoy a cup of coffee while gazing at their deceased pet, but somehow that didn't occur to me before I pulled into the center lane.  

As I got closer I noticed a large puddle of fluid on the asphalt and thought, "Ugh. It's going to be messy."  I had just noticed a funny-looking tail, and then I heard myself say, "Do you need some help?" 

"Yes," the man said, gesturing at the blanket. "Coffee." I didn't quite understand what he wanted me to do, but I did lift the blanket and this is what I saw:

*It was an actual dead raccoon.  This butter rendition is simply

 

less graphic.

     "Coffee," the man said. "He needs coffee. Then I put in car and take to vet."

     "I don't think coffee will help. But I will put it in the car for you. Let's get him out of the street first." I grabbed the raccoon's little paw and carried him to the curb.  He was stiff as a board. "I don't think he's alive, sir. I'm sorry."

     "No. Coffee, and then you take to the vet." He pours more coffee on the dead raccoon.

     "Me?  I'm not putting him in my car!"

     "Not blood on him. It's coffee. Put in your car."

     "I'm not putting a dead raccoon in my car."

Right about then I see three police cars heading our way...

 

 

 

And then much to her surprise it was 2018

So long, 2017! You were a great year, but I think it's time to move on. But before you go, I'd like to say a few things:

Thanks for keeping my family (and me) safe, healthy, and (mostly) happy.

Thank you for the acceptance and support of my fiends...as well as my friends.

Thank you for everything I wake up and take for granted every morning.

(and thank you for crazy, serendipitous surprises like this - running into Fred and Gwen in Anchorage in June.   What were the chances? and were they Fiends? or Friends?)

and I promise I won't be gone so long this time.... and I'll also work on formatting...

Thirty-Six Things

 

 

In honor of my charming son's 36th  birthday today  ... yesterday  ...err, earlier this month, I present "Thirty-six Things You didn't Know About Larry"  (umm, Part  1)

 

1.  He wore cowboy boots until he was three. Without socks. Because they tickled.

2.  He jumped out of a perfectly good airplane.  (Some people think of a bucket list as something to do before they die; some people consider it something to do while trying to die.)



 

 

 



 

3. He is a good man with animals.  He rescued Petunia the Rabbit and kept her for eight years.  She now rests in a place of honor in our yard.  Larry took in Lucy after his dad could no longer keep her.

4. He is a good sport.

 

Ziplining in the Beckers' backyard

 

 

5. He keeps a bucket of water on his back porch which he pours over his head every morning. I don't understand this, and neither does Lucy.

6.  He spent a semester in Sweden studying for his master's degree in political science.

7.  He has a masters degree in Political Science.

 

 8. He is a man of many talents.

 

 

 

 

 

9. On first first day of preschool with Miss Nancy at Building Blocks in Somer's Point, NJ, when he was told to go use the boys' room; he took off his boot, pee'd in his sock, then returned the sock to the teacher.  (This may or may not be related to item #1)

 



10.  He was once trapped in a locked bedroom with no way out.   Around 2 a.m. we heard a terrible crashing sound coming from the guest room (my in laws were staying in Larry's room.)  Allan ran to the room and saw that Larry had pulled out the the top hinges on the bedroom door. 

 Larry may have looked a little like this --

 

 

and gasped,  "I can't get out of the room!!!  I have to pee and there's no door handle!  I'm trapped!!"

Allan issued a few profanities along the lines of  "You dumbsh*t.  The doorknob is on the other side of the door" and proceeded to tear the rest of the door off its hinges so Larry could escape.

This is a true and factual story, although there may or may not have been some alcohol consumption involved.

 

*****to be continued*****

An in Depth Study of Nature vs Nurture: Which plays a bigger role in the development of a child's personality -- genetics or environment?

Well, I'm clearly not a scientist and this is a blog, not a thesis...

Back in my youth (which was very long ago), I had a need for a resume.  I'd only worked a couple of jobs and didn't have much to actually put on a resume; if nothing else, but I am creative.

This time period was pre-computer age, so there were no fancy computers or software to brag about on a resume.  So it was fairly common to list your typing speed and any office machines you could operate.   I put down the Bostitch M-89 100 Series and the Swingline Model 29886 as machines I had " great competency" in operating.  They are -- respectively -- a stapler and an electric pencil sharpener.

Apparently I've a smart ass a long time.  So are both of my lovely children.  Nature or nurture? Both my babies were doomed from the start.

The "C" Word

This is a very short post.  We all know that cancer is not good.  And chemo, if not worse, adds insult to injury.  Not only did I lose a breast (actually no biggie), but I lost all of my hair, all of my fingernails, and one toenail (don't ask.  I don't know why just one).  And in the last four-and-a-half years, my hair has grown back (my breast has not); my fingernails have more or less grown back (the toenail has not); and my eyelashes and eyebrows have never recovered.

So, in a fit of vanity, I decided to have my (nonexistent) eyebrows tattooed on.  I found a great place and a fabulous esthetician and had it done.  I was very nervous, but Lisa soothed my fears and told me that while my eyebrows would appear extremely dark for the first week or so, they would soon fade into a very natural look.  Through her wizardy, I think Lisa's captured the "real me" --- agreed?

Proof That Women are More Evolved than Men!

This is Alice.

She is a border collie and

she is very smart.

This is my husband.

He is a man.

He is very smart, too.

Alice loves to play outside in the water.
She gets very muddy.

Alice likes to play in water inside too.

She digs in her water dish

in the kitchen.

But one day, Alice found a fabulous source of

water in the bathroom!

And she dug and she dug and she dug!

  Water went everywhere.

This was not an Approved Alice Activity.

Later that night, the following conversation occurred:

"I found Alice digging in the toilet tonight," said husband.

"Mmm, yes, she did that earlier too."

"I told her to quit three or four times and she wouldn't.  I finally had to close the bathroom door."

"Really, Dear?"

as I turned the next page in my book.  

"I just put the lid down"