Friday, July 31, 2009
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
WARNING: DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT SWALLOW BUBBLE GUM!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
You're probably thinking, "Why doesn't she turn ont the A/C?" I'm not a big fan of artificial coolness; it too often slips over into where's-my-sweatshirt-and-mittens, when-did-we-move-to-the-Arctic-Circle coldness! Especially if my husband mans the controls.
Actually, we haven't had any really steaming days this summer--and it's nearly August--so we haven't even removed the air conditioner 's winter coat yet. I was hoping we wouldn't need to remove it at all this summer, but since the long range forecast suggests that we're looking at high 80's to low 90's and humidity, today will probably be the day.
I guess I'd better stop blogging and start looking for my winter coat and mittens!
Monday, July 27, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Dear Lindt Chocolate,
I think my husband is becoming suspicious of our affair.
How does the clueless one finally have one? It could be the bag of truffles hidden in my undies drawer, or maybe he discovered the truffles in the Green Giant Brussel Sprouts bag in the freezer--or maybe he's just noticed that my jeans are hugging my ass a hell of a lot more tightly lately!
Whatever it is, I think he's on to us. We must be more discreet in our liaisons .
. . meet you on the back porch at midnight?
I adore you and I don't know if I could ever live without you!
Longing for you,
Dear Lindt Chocolate,
I was afraid of this. My husband saw us last night. . .. on the back porch. He hid behind the window curtain and waited for me to come in. There was an ugly confrontation. I tried to deny it, but he smelled you on my breath! I was forced to confess.
I don't know how to tell you this, Lindt, my love, but the only way we can continue is if we include him. I know, I know, the thought of a threesome repulsed me at first, too. But the thought of giving you up completely is unbearable to me!
After agonizing through a sleepless night, tossing and turning, I've decided I can do this. I may have to close my eyes while he has his way with you, but anything is better then never holding you again--never again reveling in your sweetness!
I hope you understand and are with me in this.
Loving you without shame,
Saturday, July 25, 2009
I remember their wedding; Eric was so happy that day, he was literally glowing! I know the bride was beautiful and happy, too, but as the groom's mom, I was especially conscious of his demeanor.
As a mother, you hope that your kids will make good choices and that they will be happy; Eric has managed to do both. Although I won't be around to see them, I believed they will be together right into their old age.
Of course, his wife is a saint. He can be a bit of a challenge--the oldest child syndrome, but she deals with him very well. I love the look he still gets in his eyes when he's with her, and he doesn't realize anyone is watching. Still smitten after all these years! May that feeling never fade.
Friday, July 24, 2009
When our freshman year was drawing to a close, and final exams started, most students who'd finished their exams packed up and left
for summer vacation and home. As I recall, there was a two week exam period, and then a few days preparation for graduation, the actual graduation, and then the school closed for the year, and all had to leave. Some of us who had boyfriends were reluctant to leave, so we stayed through graduation. Joy and I were among those who stayed, as was Pumpkin, her roommate, and many others. The day after our finals were over, Pumpkin and her roommate were seen carrying a large, heavy box into the dormitory.
"What cha' got in the box?" we asked.
"A case of Budweiser," Pumpkin answered. That elicited a roar of laughter from our group. Everyone knew that being caught drinking was grounds for expulsion, and bringing booze into the dorm would be a death wish!
" That Pumpkin is such a joker!" was our reaction. By four o'clock that afternoon, we were having second thoughts. Pumpkin and her roommate were sitting in the smoker (the only room in Kimball Hall where a student was allowed to smoke) laughing and giggling and acting pretty "happy."" It wasn't until dinner time that night that we became convinced that it wasn't Pepsi they had been carrying. Kimball hall housed the campus dining room, and as those who'd chosen to postpone our summer vacation were lining up at the entrance waiting for the doors to open, we heard the strains of "Put on your old gray panties that used to be your auntie's, and we'll go for a frolic in the hay" drifting down from the third floor of of the residence area. We were all gaping at each other with our eyes bugging out in disbelief!
Mrs. Dunn, upon investigation, found Pumpkin and her roommate sitting naked together in opposite ends of a bubble-filled bathtub, singing away at the top of their lungs, obviously snookered! I suppose today, a sobriety test would be required before any action could be taken, but our house mother didn't need one to know that these girls hadn't exactly made a run on the Coke machine. That was the last day on campus for the two party girls--they were just ahead of their time, as Mardel said in her comment yesterday. One mystery remained, though: no empty beer cans were found any where in their room, the smoker, nor the bathroom. No one could figure out what they had done with them!
A year later, as we were approaching the end of our sophomore year, Joy was running down the stairs in Kimball Hall and grabbed the corner post of the railing as she jumped down the last step. The cover piece came off in her hand. As she went to replace it, she noticed that the post was hollow, and was filled to the top with empty Budweiser cans. We quickly checked the other corner posts on the three flights of stairs, and sure enough, all had tops that came off, and all were filled with Bud cans. Mystery solved!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Just a few random thoughts from someone's warped mind!
Every time I hear the dirty word'exercise',
I wash my mouth out with chocolate.
I do have flabby thighs,
But fortunately my stomach covers them.
I know I got a lot of exercise the
last few years, just getting over the hill.
I joined a health club last year,
spent about 400 bucks.
Haven't lost a pound.
Apparently you have to go there.
We all get heavier as we get older,
because there's a lot more information in our heads.
Every time I start thinking too much about how I look,
I just find a Happy Hour and by the time I leave,
I look just fine.
Walking can add minutes to your life.
This enables you at 85 years old
To spend an additional 5 months in a nursing
Home at $7000 per month.
I like long walks,
especially when they are taken
by people who annoy me.
I have to walk early in the morning,
before my brain figures out what I'm doing.
The advantage of exercising every day
is so when you die, they'll say,
'Well, she looks good doesn't she.'
I hope at least one of the above made you smile!
I received the above in an email from a friend as part of a list of “Headlines from the year 2032.” I would have laughed more if there hadn’t been a slight ring of possible truth to it. There are articles on the Google search engine stating the Postal Service is considering closing 10 percent of its offices across the country. I’m beginning to wonder if we even need mail service. I know the only things I seem to find in my letter box are junk mail, bills, and catalogues.
Most companies now have a pay-by-phone option, or an online payment option, and most banks offer a bill paying service. Many companies are now offering to send your statements electronically. I know this would require everyone to have online access, but that day is very close. Though not everyone has a computer, your local library has computers available; even senior housing facilities are now offering a computer room. It would probably be much cheaper to provide online access and computers to those who can’t afford it, than to continue to fund the Postal Service which is operating at a huge loss.
The cost to mail a one ounce letter in 1958 was 4 cents; a postcard, 3 cents. We’re fast approaching a 50 cent stamp, and mail service is slower than ever! Additional increases in the cost of stamps will only decrease service usage further.
Ending postal service would end junk mail—such a pity! I suspect all of you would miss yours about as much as I would miss mine! And Catalogues! I seem to get the same ones over and over with different covers; an obvious attempt to fool me into thinking the company has new merchandise to offer, rather than the same old, same old.
Well, I guess I’ve ragged on the Post Office long enough; the question that cartoon really inspired was, “Have you had your eyes checked lately?”
Monday, July 20, 2009
It’s not for lack of trying. I did sew some in my 30’s, but I think it was of necessity. I lived in a rural area, had few opportunities to go clothes shopping—no mall nearby and the time was pre-internet. As a result, if I wanted a new dress or whatever, it was up to me to stitch one up! Once my children were in school and I went back to the workplace, the desire to sew disappeared for lack of time and energy.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
There are so many things to be positive about: I am grateful for all the blessings in my life: healthy, self-sufficient children and grandchildren. ( I watch Dr. Phil--I've seen those kids who mooch off their parents into their thirties, those kids who are drug dependent or in some other way at odds with the law!)
I have the good fortune to have a loving husband who puts up with all my flaws and foibles, and (knock on wood!) I am still healthy. I have a sister who is the dearest person in the world, brothers I know would be there for me if I needed them, and a circle of really good friends. By those standards, I count myself truly rich. What more could one want?
Friday, July 17, 2009
A year ago last February, I missed Allie's brother's birthday party. I didn't forget Nick's birthday, I just got the party day confused; I could have sworn that invitation said Sunday! Saturday, the day before the party (which was the day of the party, but I didn't know!), my husband and I decided to take a drive to a restaurant in New Hampshire called "The Smokehouse" for some BBQ'd ribs. It was one of those crisp winter days when the sun is bright, the sky is blue, and the trees are sporting their sparkling snow hats--a perfect day to escape cabin fever, which can be quite debilitating during winter in Maine.
So, totally oblivious to the party preparations underway at my son's house, Hubby and I jumped (okay, maybe we didn't exactly jump, but we tossed his cane in the back seat and climbed) into my Chevy and headed for the hills--literally. New Hampshire is known for it's White Mountains.
We meandered leisurely up and down the winding roads, anticipating the juicy ribs, the moist corn bread, and the bubbling baked beans, totally unaware of the panic we were creating behind us. The party time arrived and passed, and we were no-shows. My sons and their wives knew we wouldn't just 'blow off" a grandkid's birthday party, so they began to worry. First they called our house, and of course, we weren't home, so they thought we must be on our way. Then they called my cell phone. New Hampshire's mountainous terrain is notorious for "dead" zones where there is no cell phone coverage, so they were unable to reach us.
While we were pigging out on pig ribs, the kids were freaking out. They called my sister in a panic, certain something horrible had happened to us. We, totally unaware of the chaos about us, calmly finished lunch, and started home. When at last we were back within cell range, my sister was able to reach us and alert us to my error. Of course I was devastated that I had missed my grandson's birthday, and we delivered our presents for him the very next day along with profuse apologies.
Because of that mix up, every birthday or holiday since, my sons call me and remind me of the upcoming festivities and make certain to get in a dig about my age, declining memory, and make not so subtle hints about Alzheimer's testing.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
The worst part is you really should have different user names and passwords for each site or account, because if you use the same for all and a thief is able to discover them, he or she will has access to your whole life! Now maintaining different passwords and user names becomes difficult when you reach a certain age; and getting that message: "You have entered an incorrect user name or password" can be very annoying, especially when you are sure that what you just entered is correct.
I used to jot my user names and passwords on bits of paper, which would inevitably, mysteriously disappear. After having clicked on "forgot password" and waiting for that enlightening email too many times, I finally started keeping them all in a little notebook. But now I worry: what happens if the thief finds the little notebook?? Guess I'd better remember the password!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
For years we were told that caffeine is bad for you; now studies are showing that caffeine can be used in the treatment of migraines, and some studies are even claiming increased longevity in women who use caffeine. This one hasn’t been a real dilemma for me; I discovered in my 30’s that PMS and caffeine turned me into a creature from the netherworld, so I gave it up permanently. (Except for chocolate; I do have my limits!)
Sugar was the bad guy and we were urged to switch to saccharin; then aspartame was the way to go; now that is in question and we’re told that a dextrin and sucralose product is the answer. And I’m sure down the road a new study will undermine that!
Eggs were at one time a terrible choice, now they have regained the respectability if consumed in moderation.
I fully expect that in the future we will be advised to eat only (organically grown) grass and drink pure spring water. Won’t that be a delightful time?
Monday, July 13, 2009
I want to know when a cure for my breaking fingernails will be developed. Just about the time that I get them all evenly grown out, shaped, and looking nice, I invariably break one. Could we get a fix for that (short of fake nails)?
I’ve also noticed as I’ve “matured” that those dark hairs which were once abundant on my legs are much less plentiful; they seem to have found a new home. While the job of shaving my legs has become a less frequent chore, I find now that I have to peer into the mirror daily looking for those dark hairs sprouting out on my face! Thank goodness they haven’t transplanted themselves in huge numbers, but they are disconcerting, nevertheless! When will they come up with a pill that will intercept that “hair highway” which has obviously opened up from my calves to my chin?
And wouldn’t you think that if they can develop a pill to cure a man’s sagging appendage, there’d be one to lift my sagging butt? It’s just not right!!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
This video was sent to me by a friend a while ago, but it was so funny, I just had to save it. If you've ever been somewhere and walked into the wrong place at the wrong time, you'll identify with the victims of this porta-potty prank. The looks of confusion and consternation on their faces are priceless! Put yourself in their shoes and imagine your reaction.
Click on the arrow at the lower left of the window; I hope this makes you chuckle!
Saturday, July 11, 2009
The time is now to seize the day;
Mustn’t wait ‘til old and gray.
Make the most of the time you’re given;
Too late at death, to think of livin.’
The grave’s no place to take regrets,
Live for now; don’t hedge your bets.
Kiss your kids, and love your spouse,
For without them, you’ve just a house!
Do it now, that dreamed of deed;
Don’t hesitate—take the lead.
Is there one for whom you care?
Tell them now ‘fore Gabriel’s blare.
The time is now, to seize the day,
Mustn’t wait ‘til old and gray;
Make the most of time you’re given;
Death’s no time to think of livin.’
Friday, July 10, 2009
Although I used to love camping, I always camped at the more civilized facilities that had amenities such as restrooms with johns that flushed, hot and and cold water showers, and occasionally even mini laundramats. I know, I know: some would say that's not camping, but we did sleep on the ground in sleeping bags in a tent and cook our meals over an open fire.
My first camping experience was of necessity: we had just moved back to Maine and my (first) husband needed 9 more credit hours to complete his master's degree. The University of Maine would not accept more than 12 credits in transfer, so he decided to go back to Western New England College in Massachusetts to finish his degree. At the time, we had one car and a six-month-old baby. I didn't want to stay in Maine with no car and a six month old in a town where I knew no one, and we couldn't afford to rent an apartment for six weeks and still make our house payment in Maine, so we decided to camp for that period of time.
Now, we're talking about two people who have never camped in their lives. We bought a tent, sleeping bags, a Coleman stove, an outdoor extension cord, and electric heater (gotta' make sure that baby stays warm!) an electric frying pan, and whatever other paraphernalia we thought might be needed, and we made the trek, with baby in tow, to a campground in Connecticut about 15 miles from the Western New England College campus. (The name of the place just came back to me: Stafford Springs Campground. I don't know if it's still there!) We had a car bed for the baby, which was the 1970's version of today's "pack 'n play."
On our first day, the sky clouded up as we were setting up our 12' x 14' tent and our 14' x 14' tarp, which gave us a place under cover for the picnic table. Mother Nature was kind enough to allow us the time to get the car unpacked, our sleeping bags and car bed into the tent, and the coolers under the picnic table before she let loose. The rain begain to fall, and fall it did, for ten straight days! We had to dig a trench around the tent in an attempt to keep the water from getting under it, for we were getting a sloshing sensation through the tent floor with every step taken. Thank God the tent didn't leak! We had to buy plastic curtains to hang from the sides of the tarp so we could eat at our picnic table without getting soaked. Of course, we weren't so lucky when nature would call, and we would have to make the dash to the restroom facilities!
After that first ten days, we had pretty decent weather, and the baby and I had a great time. I learned to cook many one-dish meals in that electric fry pan during bad weather, and we made use of the Coleman stove and the fireplace. The campground had a small pond and sandy beach, and I thought it a grand adventure. Unfortunately, my husband who was attending classes and trying to do his homework in the tent, didn't find the adventure that grand; he refused to go camping ever again! A year later, my second son was born, and the boys and I went camping many times including a three-week stretch with a babysitter along, while I took classes toward my masters'.
To this day, my sons still go camping, now with their own families. I confess that since at this age my bladder can no longer make it through the night without having to "use the facilities," I don't go anymore; but I still have lots of great memories of those times!
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The message here is shop around for your prescriptions! I was amazed at the price differences on the same medication. Generics are the best bet, if you can tolerate them; if you require a name brand, or if a generic is not available, price comparison will be to your advantage. If you are lucky enough and/or healthy enough to not require prescription meds, more power to you! The happiest pills are the ones that you don’t have to take!
Monday, July 6, 2009
The fact that we don’t have these inventions is not because women lack the creativity and talent to come up with them, but because they are too busy taking care of the men and boys in their lives to find the time to work on these issues. Someone did come up with the self-cleaning oven; how about self-cooking meals? I’m not talking TV-dinner fare, I mean produce and meats that jump out of the fridge, unassisted, and dice, slice, boil, roast, or fry themselves. Okay, maybe that’s a little over-the-top.
I’d settle for the self-cleaning house. They were on the right track with Roomba, that robotic vacuum cleaner, but it needed to be able to do walls and ceilings in addition to floors, make and serve me a Pina Colada and, of course, be affordable. When they come up with that little gem, I’m in!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Heavy rains create many temporay waterfalls, along the park roads, and this one reappears often near the summit of Cadillac Mountain. Photographer-Robert Thayer.
The ocean slowly erodes the granite bedrock; this process creates the sheer cliffs that dominate the island's shoreline. Photographer Susan Cole Kelly.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
There are 17 stone bridges along the 50-mile carriage road system. This one was the first, built by John D. Rockefeller, Jr., in the early 20th century. It is the only one built entirely of cobblestones. Photographer- Robert Thayer.
The above picture did not come out as reddish as the original; Cadillac mountain is the first place in the United States to receive the sun's rays each day, and at sunrise the naturally pinkish rocks turn red-orange! Another Robert Thayer Photo.
Friday, July 3, 2009
After yesterdays's post where I mentioned all the recreational activities available in Maine, I felt a responsibility to mention water safety. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then the above video should be worth several thousand. I think it illustrates many things not to do while engaged in on the water activities.
Click on the arrow at the lower left hand corner of the video to start it. No matter where you go boating or fishing, remember that those activities do not mix well with alcohol; wear a life jacket; and always use caution and common sense!
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Every year starting around Memorial Day, the influx of tourists, or as we natives like to call them, “folks from away” begins. Much like clouds of locusts the crowds descend upon us. (The similarity to locusts is only in the numbers; we welcome visitors and the dollars they bring to our economy. The resulting traffic jams, parking shortages, and long lines at our favorite restaurants are only a minor inconvenience.)
Vacationers come to Maine from all over the Unites States and Canada. Old Orchard Beach, which is only 3 miles from my home, is an especially popular playground for Canadians. Many of them are from Quebec, which is a primarily French-speaking province and they are easily recognized by the cadence of their speech and their men’s fondness for “Speedos” (those tiny little swim suits that leave nothing to the imagination!).