Whew survived 2009

So far.
It's been a helluva year and I can't believe I made it through.
Our house is still our house but it is still a schedule.
The husband is diabetic, we just found out, and now I have to learn a whole new way for him to eat because, even before this when we are at a restaurant and the server asks him what he wants he always looks to me as if I was carrying his brain around in my pocket. In truth most of the time he doesn't know WHAT he does or doesn't like. So now I'll be factoring diabetes into all of that....sigh.

Since I am trying to hold myself together I just look at the day before me and no further than that. I make no resolutions because I Know I would never keep it and who needs one more thing to fail at?

Enough of the serious crap.

We were in an amish market the other day and over the loudspeaker came a voice saying that they needed a mop and a muppet at the bakery. I assumed that they would take one of the hairier muppets because, really, how much liquid could Kermit suck up. And with kermit being a frog wouldn't he be wet to start with? So I'm standing there thinking maybe Grover or Animal
when the husband realizes that I had gone off on one of my flights of fancy and leans over and asks me what I heard. Seems they didn't need a mop and muppet at the bakery, they only needed a mop and bucket. Talk about bursting my balloon. I was all ready to watch muppets at work but buckets at work are no fun.

Fibro can be fun!

It snowed again last night. Not much but enough to make things white. I just hope no rain follows because our basement flooded last week and we do not want to do that again.

The flood, in its way was funny. The water came in through the basement door when the drain froze over. Older son said he was laying in bed half asleep when he heard little dog splashing his way toward him and then whine at him to wake up. Seems that Little Dog Ollie came to tell older son that we had had a flood. Both sons were furious, of course, to start but by the middle of the day, I'd hear the younger son yell "Marco!" And the other son answer "Polo!". They were on the look out for the Loch Graff monster, talked about fishing and while they did lose some things, they have bounced back well. Even the curmodgeon son.

Little dog Ollie scared us with butt tumors. How come I had never heard that an un=neutered male dog could develop such tumors? Little dog Ollie is 12 but has never acted his age. Since we had him neutered and the tumors removed, he's a spicy little buster who has reverted to puppyhood. Talk about spit and vinegar. He and Rocco the Wonder Dog love playing in the snow. Rocco put his head down and plunges forward like a snow plow with Ollie leaping along behind him much like a dolphin in the ocean. Its hysterical watching the two of them and heaven help any other dog or truck that thinks just because there is snow that the hounds of hell are slacking off. Nope plowhead and leaper are on the job raising hell.

Guess that's it for now. Happy New year.

Doing the math

Let's see. I was born in 1952. I am 4 years older than my sister. That means that her birth year is 1956. Mmmm let's see. .. 1952 plus 4 equals 1956 so how come my sister claims, on Facebook, that her birth year is 1958? This is the sister that my mother never let me forget graduated highschool in the top 2% of the state. So here is my question. Is she just an idiot or is she lying about her age and if she is lying about her age....FOR GOD'S SAKE REALLY LIE ABOUT IT AND TAKE OFF TEN YEARS OR SO an not just a niggling 2. If she is the smart one, then there is no hope for me.

On a lighter note I came home to discover a nacho bake that my son was doing so I didn't have to even think about dinner. It was delicious as always.

\I worked more on my Christmas cards and am covered with glitter and now I have to figure out who gets my ah hem masterpieces. I would send a homemade one to my sister but after the 1956 fiasco I wonder if she is allowed to handle glitter.

And speaking of glitter, here's a Rocco the Wonder Dog story.

When Rocco was just a mere pup he had the tendency to come into my craft room, pick something out and carry it into the hallway where he destroyed it. One night I come out of the craft room to find the hallway glittered with that thick kind of glitter no one uses much anymore and which I didn't even know I had and there was goofy faced Rocco in the middle of it, covered with it and grinning his big goofy grrin as if to tell me that he CAN craft without thumbs. It's kinda hard to get mad at a dog with glitter on his nose. He's gotten better and no longer steals craft stuff but that's because I always try to have something safe in the house for him to chew. In fact right now he's laying on the bed with me and I see glitter on his butt and he wasn't even IN the craft room tonight.

Hey if I'm four years older than my sister (who is now th spitting image of my mother right down to the punish Sharon for something she doesn't know she did part) and she was born in 1958, then that means I was born in 1054 and am two years younger than dirt. Woopie!

And on that note I say goodnight.


Oh. I have Christmas cards looking for a home if anyone wants to drop me their address

ho ho hum

I finally got the tree up, no thanks to the dogs who thought that since I was on the floor trying to sort branches that it meant they could crawl into my lap and stay there. Little dog Ollie fits nicely but Rocco the wonder dog is so big, he doesn't actually gets into my lap, rather stands over my lap and refuses to budge until I lull him into a drooling lump by rubbing his chest. And speaking of Rocco the wonder dog... His gorilla girlfriend Eloise Matilda has another fan, our black cat chloe who now sleeps curled up on Eloise Matilda, who, being a gorilla, is black as well. So Rocco the Wonder dog comes trotting down the hallway one night and his butt is even with Eloise Matilda when Chloe reaches out and snags him. Talk about a dooley. Rocco nearly jumped out of his skin. I wonder if he thought Eloise Matilda was getting back at him for all those humping parties he dragged her to. It's hard trying to explain to the dog what happened when you are laughing so hard you have to pee.

So, the tree is up and I wonder when it got so triangular. This is a tree we've had forever but I don't remember it being so... so... perfectly triangular and the tree topper that I thought would be so perfect a match to the gaudy garland and the clay covered balls basicly makes the tree look like it's wearing a dunce cap. So I thore gaudy crap around the base of the topper turning it into a birthday hat. Sheesh.

And I worked on making my Christmas cards. I had a brilliant idea... or so I thought that looked like crap when I made one and so scrapped that and started over. I have my elements ready and now have to assembled them and the comes the hard part of figuring out who I'm sending to. I think I got a total of three cards last year. I gotta get some friends but haven't a clue as to how to go about it.

Christmas shopping is done only the husband wants to spend more, except he doesn't hae an idea what he wants to buy the sons. I say why not let it stand where it is now when only $1 separates the total of one son's gifts from another? Besides I hate shopping and cannot face another store.

Speaking of stores and shopping, I went out last Tuesday and I swear the selections looked like I was in the stores the day after Christmas when everything was picked over and gone. I was in Target and kohls and Kmart and it all had that weary bare shelf look. I wonder if the stores got one shipment of stuff for the holidays and that is it. I did overhear employees of a dollar store discussing the fact that they weren't going to be getting any more Christmas stock in. And this was on December 8. Well I guess when Halloween stuff has to shift over to make room for Christmas stuff what can you expect. I suppose I'll be seeing choclate Easter bunnies in January.

The husband keeps asking what I want for Christmas and what I would really like is for him NOT TO ASK ME A SINGLE QUESTION for one whole day. Sometimes I think the man found a stash of question marks somewhere and thinks he has to use them all before they grow stale. I wouldn't mind so much if I didn't think that I have to answer him. Working all those years in a library has left me unable to let a question remain unanswered. Or if when I did give an answer the husband would file it away in his head instead of asking me the same question two and three times. He says it's easier to ask me than to take the time to think if he already knows the answers. A few of today's gems were. Can you vacuum up artifical tree needles? Is it raining? Is there anything in the dryer? And my all time favorite 'What is this?" That last question is usually asked when I am a) out of the room b) with my head stuck in the oven/ornament box/grocery bag and my butt in the air c) or when whatever he's looking at is so small I couldn't see it if it were under my nose. I also like, 'are their clothes in the dryer?" When I haen't benn in the laundry room for days and is this milk bad. HInt.... milk doesn't usually have lumps. Some days I get peppered with 15 plus questions before lunch and am only able to finish answering a thrid of them, before aother question comes my way, trips me up and sets my feeble braincells along another path.

I wonder where I could get a supply of declarative sentences for him? Cedtainly not in Target or Kohls or Kmart... those shelves are sad.