Revenge

Ginglebelle has apparently decided enough is enough and is taking a firm hand (paw?) with Mr. Morty. He torments her from morning to night and I really don't think he is trying to be mean but he is still a kitten and wants to play. In kitty years Ginglebelle and I are about the same age and it takes more than a little catnip to get us to chase a ball. Every time Ginglebelle tries to take a nap (23 out of 24 hrs) Morty is either biting her tail, putting his paw in her ears or sitting on her while trying to get her attention. The sliding door in my bedroom has a glass panel insert with a pet door which allows them on the screened porch. Gingles was minding her own business out on the screened porch and idiot child (Morty) spied her through the glass so of course he had to be on the porch too. Gingles waited until Morty was engrossed in watching a squirrel and then she flew through the pet door to get back inside and away from the demon kitty. Once inside she sat right next to the pet door which prevented Morty from following. If kitties had fists I would say Morty was pounding on the door and Gingles totally ignored him. She continued blocking the door with her back while she washed her paws and ears and gave me a, "What..is there a problem look?" Then she then laid down (still blocking the door) and took her nap in peace. I'm pretty sure I heard her laugh.

OH MY GOODNESS...will this day ever end?

This has been a tough week and it's not even Wednesday yet. Lots going on at work, trying to finish the holiday party bookings, finalizing menus, reserving bands, DJ's, dance floors and stages. I REALLY need to buy a lottery ticket this week. There is a wedding rehearsal, wedding and a cooking class this weekend plus an afternoon tea thrown in here and there, just for fun. We had a walk through for the committee planning their company holiday party for 800 people this morning. Super nice group of folks and they offered several good suggestions. Then this evening the owner of our company was in town on business and his group joined us for a wonderful dinner and a guided tour. Chef Steve had jumbo cold boiled shrimp, steamed oysters, baked brie and all kinds of goodies...the man is amazing. Those shrimp were almost large enough to saddle up and ride. We always treat our guests well and make every effort for each event to be as close to perfect as possible but there is always more pressure when you have a VIP in house. I am glad today is over and I just can't wait to see what happens tomorrow!

Can anybody tell me what time it is???

Apparently my clock radio did not get the memo from President Bush that the time change is coming a week later this year. Sooo, this morning I'm having a wonderful time reading the paper, drinking a Diet Cherry Coke (because I don't like coffee but I NEED caffeine) and scratching Morty's head. I happened to glance at the clock on the stove and guess what....it's not 8:00 it's 9:00. What a lovely way to begin Monday. Nothing like running out the door like your pants are on fire to start the day off with a smile. I finally got to see Rosemary this evening. It has taken us three days to get together but when I was invited for dinner tonight I was bound and determined to make it over there. "Mom" is home! We had meatballs, mashed potatoes and corn for dinner....and that means swiss steak can't be far behind!

I thought Sunday was supposed to be a day of rest???

Again...I was wrong. We had an HOA meeting today with the potential to turn ugly but fortunately, didn't. Always good news when you walk away from an execution with only a flesh wound. Rosemary has been back in Myrtle Beach since yesterday morning and I still haven't gotten to see her but surely we will get together tomorrow. After the HOA meeting I went to Wal-mart to buy a few groceries and a new crapper flapper. Isn't that exciting!! Now if I can just figure out how to get it installed all will be well. Wow, an HOA meeting AND a new crapper flapper all in one day. Life doesn't get any better than this.

Back to the work grind.

I could not get to sleep last night and finally about 4:30 AM I fell asleep and didn't wake up until Tom called around 10:30 AM to let me know Rosemary arrived safely back in Myrtle Beach. Thank goodness he called or I might still be asleep. I must have sounded like death when I answered the phone because old cold hearted Tom asked me if I was OK and at that moment it was not possible for me to define OK. After a shower I felt like a border line human being again and took off for work to get ready for the wedding reception that was scheduled to begin at 7 PM. This is one of the sweetest couples we have ever worked with and the entire process has been a pleasure. Everything went like clockwork which is almost spooky but was a very pleasant surprise! Well...Morty is yawning and looking at his wristwatch so I guess it's time for bed. If I can't sleep again tonight it will not be pretty.

Sensory Overload

The theme for Las Vegas has to be "there is no such thing as too much". Between the lights, people and clanging slot machines I am numb. Vegas also seems to have a real talent for wrapping anything that stands still in gold lame and if at all possible there will also be multiple colored flashing lights. It ain't easy to make Myrtle Beach look like a refined, cultured, toned down vacation area but I think Vegas has come very close to accomplishing that goal. The basketball team that Polly coaches made the championships so we decided to get to the airport early (5 AM, oh dear God) and do our best to get Polly home for the big game. We didn't get back to the hotel room until after 11 PM and between packing and talking it was close to 1 AM before we fell asleep. Soooo, 4 AM rolled around pretty early but thank goodness we packed the night before and don't get me started on telling you about trying to get Polly's suitcase closed. That thing was plum slam full and easily weighed over 100 pounds. We checked out and when we got down to the taxi stand the doorman was NOT very nice. New Yorkers (sorry Debi, I don't mean you) would have found him rude. We looked at each other and shared the "no tip" eye roll and got in the cab. He walked around the cab, opened my door and said, "OH NO REALLY....THANK YOU!" and then slammed my door. I was very tempted to get out of the cab and pound his scrawny behind to the ground. Now, don't go feeling all sorry for him because he had to lift Polly's anvil collection. All he did was open the cab door while yelling over his shoulder to the cab driver, "Hey buddy...get out here! They have luggage to load." OK, we arrive at the airport at 5 AM and figure it will be us and the homeless people who sleep there. We are both flying Delta so we are able to take care of business with one stop and both tickets get changed so both of us will get home early. There are a few people around the airline counters but not a lot and then we turned the corner to go through security. There has to be a 1,000 people there trying to catch the early morning "cheapie" flights. I have plenty of time but we aren't sure Polly is going to make her flight. We flagged down a TSA person and told her Polly's flight time and she assured us that at the very most it would take us 15 minutes to get through security. Riiiiiight. Well, I'll be a ding dang donkey...for once TSA was right! In less than 15 minutes they had moved that whole mass of passengers through security and we were on our way to our gates which were ta da...next to each other! Now, what are the chances of that happening? We visited until it was time for Polly to board and she was on her way back home for the big game. My flights were equally uneventful except for the last one from Atlanta to Myrtle Beach. We taxied down the runway to take off and then the pilot shut everything down. Hmmm, the cockpit door opened and the co-pilot came stomping down the aisle and went outside. Then the Captain came on the PA and said that the warning light for the cargo hold door was flashing open and they wanted to do a visual inspection. The copilot is opening, closing and banging around on the cargo hold door and we heard him radio to the Captain, "Yeah, I think it's fine. I slammed it shut and I guess we will know for sure in a few minutes. Har Har Har." My thought was...we are in Georgia so you know they have a roll of duct tape in the glove box. Tape that puppy shut and let's GO! I guess he must have slammed it really good because we took off and landed without incident. Debi picked me up at the airport and we met Sid, Tom, John and Kevin at Tony Roma's before I went home and they all came back to work to start the holiday decorations. I would have LOVED to stay and help but I had to go, ummmmmm.....geesh, I KNOW it is something important. Just give me a minute I know I'll remember what it is that I have to do. Ummmm...guess not.

P.S. The girls won the game 31 to 28! Way to go Lady Falcons!

Mama Mia!

Fortunately Polly's work schedule has not interferred with my fun. I brought my laptop and fully intended to work while she was in class but my laptop does not like the internet at The Flamingo and we won't talk about my cell phone except to say I DON'T HAVE A CELL PHONE BECAUSE OUR COMPANY SERVICE WAS TERMINATED BEFORE OUR NEW PLAN WAS EFFECTIVE. Sooo, without a cell phone, laptop or Internet I had no choice except to have fun. After arising at the crack of 9:30 AM I ventured down to the casino just to make sure all the machines were working correctly. Before I started feeding the one armed beasts I stopped by the sidewalk cafe and devoured a yogurt parfait topped with fresh blackberries the size of my head. The slots were not so kind to me today so we just won't talk much about that. I was a pumpin' in the quarters and the machines were a dingin' but unfortunately I kept a pumpin' long after the machines quit a dingin'. Polly finished her class around 4PM and we did some shopping before heading over to Mandalay Bay for dinner and to see MAMA MIA. We decided to order something light and then after the show we would get a fabulous dessert. Mandalay Bay is probably the most gorgeous hotel I have ever seen. I cannot begin to describe how plush and upscale this property is and way out of my league. Pol and I walked in the front door and I immediately felt like brown shoes at a black tie dinner. We found a lovely seafood restaurant right around the corner from the theatre where MAMA MIA would be performed. Perfect! Right? Ummm, maybe if you own your own goldmine. Polly and I have been talking nonstop for the past two days and this was no exception so we paid little attention to the pricing. We were having soup and a salad...whooptido, how much can that be? No big deal, right? Well ha ha...have you ever had a $12 tomato? Neither had we until tonight. The tomatoes were the best I have ever eaten but come on...$12.00 for a tomato seems a tad bit high! I had a bowl of clam chowder and Pol had a bowl of pumpkin something or ruther that was also very good but NOT as good as the bill reflected. Pol looked at the check when it arrived at the table and said, "OH MY." That is when we discovered that we had $12 tomatoes and with the addition of the soup our tab was well over $50. Guess I should mention that we had nothing to drink other than tap water...not even iced tea! Whew, probably a good thing too. I'm afraid we would have had to get a second mortgage if we had actually ordered meat. After we got over the shock of the $12 tomatoes (yes you are right we still aren't over that and I sincerely doubt if we ever will be and from this day forward this trip will be known as the time we ate $12 tomatoes) we decided to try the slots at Mandalay Bay. That did not go well at all. We lost a total of $40 in less than 15 minutes on a PENNY MACHINE! Now that takes some work and dedication. Fortunately for our pocketbooks it was time for the show to start. I had ordered the tickets online and thought they were good but it was hard to tell without a seating chart. I have never actually sat in the orchestra pit until tonight...what fun! We again had front row seats and the musicians were talking to us prior to the performance. MAMA MIA is a wonderful show and since my children grew up hearing ABBA we both knew all the words. What a great show! We returned to the Pepto Bismol Palace and started packing for our return home. This trip was just not long enough.

Showgirls, Strippers and Slot Machines

Hmmm, that title is a bit misleading. We haven't seen any showgirls or strippers (that I know of) but the slot machines...hummada hummada hummada. Polly has been in class all day and I got lonely soooo, I went downstairs and met Mr. Slot Machine. Mr. Slot Machine liked me today and turned my $20.00 into $125.00! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know that amount would hardly excite Bill Gates but it was the first time I won that much on a slot machine so I was pretty pleased. We won't talk about the lady next to me who won $800.00 with one pull...I hate her. Polly and I met for lunch and when she went back to class I walked the grounds around the hotel. Beautiful! Ponds, bridges, palm trees, flamingos (Matthew calls them "mingos"), koi, turtles and all kinds of birds. There are 5 pools and the one on the upper level had a sign that says age 21 and over. I live in the South and anytime you see 21 and over it is because of alcohol. So I am walking up the steps thinking how odd it is to have an area set aside for people to drink. You would think it would be legal to have a beer or a drink around the pool in Las Vegas. WELL...honey, the over 21 had nothing to do with alcohol. There were nekid people up there! I left so fast I didn't have time to see if they were drinking too. When Polly finished class we took a cab over to The Hilton for dinner and to see MENOPAUSE THE MUSICAL. We had dinner at Benihana and thoroughly enjoyed the food and atmosphere. Fortunately Benihana didn't have grilled cheese or chicken fingers on the menu so Pol had to actually eat grown up food. After dinner we found seats (front row center) at the theater and Pol was sitting there with her head in her hands. I asked her if she was OK and she said, "Hmm, here I am in Las Vegas with no husband and no children for the first time in over 14 years and what am I doing? Spending the evening watching MENOPAUSE THE MUSICAL with my Mother." My feelings weren't too hurt. If you have the opportunity to see this show by all means go! We laughed until we cried and had a wonderful evening. I think Polly decided spending the evening with her Mom was not so bad after all.

It's VEGAS time baby!

Polly has a conference in Las Vegas Wednesday and Thursday so I said to heck with work and flew out today so we could spend a few days together without children or husbands. The plan was for Eddie and I both to go but unfortunately she couldn't make the trip this time. It has been years since Polly, Eddie and I have been able to spend any "just us time" and I really wish Eddie could be here too. Polly and I managed to arrive about an hour apart so we met at baggage claim and shared a cab to The Flamingo which is also where her conference starts tomorrow. Beautiful hotel, lots of marble, sparkley's and glitter which seems to be the standard in Las Vegas. I think the city motto is "more is not nearly enough". With a name like The Flamingo you expect to see lots of pink and they certainly didn't disappoint! The hotel corridors are longer than two football fields and for some sick reason they chose striped carpeting. The stripes are varying widths of pink, hot pink, chocolate brown and tan. I can't imagine trying to get back to your room after a few drinks. We have a beautiful room with one wall that is floor to ceiling glass that overlooks Caesar's Palace and the dancing water fountains at Bellagio's. The bathroom...wow. Two of the walls are floor to ceiling frosted glass (thank heavens!) and the door is a full length frosted glass sliding door that opens and closes with a touch of your finger. The downside is the two remaining walls are painted the pinkest hot pink I've ever seen in my life. When I look in the mirror it looks like I have a temperature of 104. The absolute coolest feature is the flat screen TV mounted behind the bathroom mirror. Nothin' better than brushing your teeth while looking eye to eye with Matt Lauer. The drapes and sheers are operated by switch so of course we spent a good amount of time opening and closing the sheers...just because we could. We had all this fun before we ever stepped out of our room! We were both hungry so we went downstairs and found a great little restaurant. I ordered a wonderful Asian chicken salad and Polly (I asked her if she was 6 yrs old) had the grilled cheese sandwich. WOW...living on the edge there aren't we Miss Pol?? She didn't ask for applesauce or chicken fingers but I figure that will be next. After dinner we wandered out to the casino and we both managed to win a little $$$. Wonder why that always happens on the first day? This is so sad, we were back in our room by 8 PM and Pol was asleep by 8:20 PM. OK, the conversation was a bit one sided this evening but it sure is nice having her here with me. The only thing that would make it better would be if Eddie could be here too.

HO! HO! HO!

Your calendar says Halloween but at work we are knee deep in holiday party planning and nothing says trick or treat quite like hot wassail with cognac and baked brie. I haven't been to Breakfast Club in over a week and lunch is at my desk or swallowed whole in the snack bar. I have decided this whole work thing is way over rated and has been done to death so maybe it's time to move on to plan B. The good part about plan B is I get to quit work and sleep late. However, the bad part about plan B is showering at the Texaco station along with Hobo Bob because my van does not have a bathroom and my van is the only place I could afford to live. Hmmm, I don't think I can get HBO in my van either. You know, I think I can learn to live with plan A for awhile longer.

German John!

Janie emailed me on Thursday suggesting a group of us go to our local German restaurant Friday or Saturday to celebrate Ocktober Fest with German John and his Magic Accordion and I said yes, great idea, sounds wonderful, count me in! Simple right? Ha ha...guess again. Well, 75 reply all emails later Janie finally has 8 people who can go on Saturday night. Janie must have REALLY wanted to go out because she also volunteered to call for the reservation. A very nice lady answers the phone and Janie says, "I would like to reserve a table of 8 for Saturday night and we would like a table close to German John. We come to your restaurant all the time and always look forward to seeing German John." The nice lady let Janie blather away while she took the reservation and then said in a heavy German accent, "German John has not been here for three years. We have new group. You will enjoy. Goodbye." Guess Tom and Janie don't go there quite as often as Janie seemed to remember. The nice German lady was right...the new group gave us tambourines and we did have fun! Something that I had always suspected was proven to be true. I have absolutely no sense of rhythm. None. Zero. Zip. Nada. If everybody was shaking their tambourine then mine was silent. If mine was jingling then everyone else had theirs in their lap. Personally, I think I did a great job and I expect to be hearing from John Mellencamp any day now asking me to join the band. OK, maybe not Mellencamp but I am DEFINITELY Weird Al Yankovik material.

Red is the new yellow.

It seems every geographic area has their own driving quirks and Myrtle Beach certainly has it's share. Turn signals are definitely optional and a red light is only a suggestion not mandatory. Since we also have 1,000's of tourists who are not familiar with the area it is not uncommon to see a Pennsylvania license plate fly across three lanes of traffic at 55 mph while trying to get to a t-shirt shop. I always try to be extra cautious while driving...OK, I am a tailgater but for crying out loud, MOVE OUT OF THE LEFT LANE, IDIOT, AND I WON'T HAVE TO TAILGATE. However, every single time I see Dr. Jordan he tells me AGAIN that I have to be very careful not to fall down a flight of stairs or to have a car accident. It's not like I wake up and think, "Well, it's Tuesday so I guess it's time to throw myself down this flight of stairs and have two fender benders before I meet Chris for lunch." I have always thought it was a pretty good idea not to do either of those things but now I feel like I should duct tape myself head to toe in bubble wrap before I leave the house. I have been in the hospital two times during my life and both times they made me take a baby home with me so Dr. Jordan can be very assured that I am doing everything in my power to stay out of the hospital.

Five loaves and two fishes.

Remember the Bible story about Jesus feeding the masses with five loaves of bread and two fishes? Boy howdy, it wasn't bread and fish but this evening we somehow managed to stretch dinner for 30 to dinner for 38. OK, it wasn't exactly "we". It was Chef Steve working like a madman while I walked around with a smile pasted on my face pretending everything is "just fine". The group arrived right on time and as we are walking down the ramp I am thinking, hmmm...that sure looks like more than 30 people. Sooo, I started trying to subtly count heads. When I got to 38 I said a bad word and wondered what the chances were that I could talk 8 of them into joining me for a burger at Sonic.While the waitstaff were setting another table and adding chairs I was girding my loins to let the Chef know we have 8 more people which meant he had to quickly prepare 8 more salads, saute a bunch more shrimp and best of all make 8 steaks magically appear. Chefs are known for their short tempers and sharp knives so I was not exactly looking forward to this conversation. The salads hit the table within minutes and food was flying around the kitchen while he was rushing to finish before the buffet line started. Well honey, apparently our Chef had read the same Bible story that I had read because he fed the masses and fed them well. Whew, thank you Jesus and Chef Steve.

I thought October is supposed to be cool.

Yeah well, AGAIN I am wrong....and hot. Don't misunderstand, I really do love warm weather but something is just not right when it hits 90 degrees (and we won't even discuss the humidity) in October. We should be wearing sweaters and knee socks and dickeys. Hmmm, does anybody wear dickeys anymore? Guess somebody is because Debi and I saw a whole rack of them in every color at Goody's the other day....right next to the lava lamps. OK, I made the lava lamp thing up but there was a huge rack of dickeys just sitting there waiting for us to come by and make fun of them. Just the thought of a turtleneck makes my head sweat. I had on my sunglasses when I walked out the front door this morning and the hot wet air instantly fogged my glasses and made me look just like Mr. Magoo.

I'll have the chicken with 175 grumpy geriatrics on the side please.

Debi and I had this great plan to expedite moving 175 geriatrics from their motor coaches to the banquet areas. It was a MARVELOUS plan! OK, it was really Tom's idea but we steal Tom's ideas all the time and usually take credit for them. It would have worked too if only we hadn't had so much help. First off I have to explain that you NEVER mix the groups. Coach A must sit with Coach A and if someone from Coach B attempts to sit with Coach A (even though they have spent 12 hours a day for the past week together) then the bitchiest person from Coach A will tell the person from Coach B that they cannot sit with Coach A. It's all very 8th grade but once you learn the rules you at least know what to expect . We had two coaches upstairs and two coaches downstairs so the plan was to unload one upstairs bus and one downstairs bus so they could start the buffet lines while we unloaded and brought in the next two coaches. Simple..right? Yeah, we thought so too. I brought the first group upstairs, no problems, everybody moved right along just like clockwork. Debi unloaded the next coach and we started down the ramp to the banquet room. This trip was taking a bit longer as out of 55 people I was the only one not using a cane, wheelchair or walker. Fifteen minutes later as we are finally shuffling into the banquet room I turn around and run right smack into the next group who, unfortunately, is supposed to be upstairs. The tour director had decided to "HELP US" and told this group to "just follow the nice lady in the green suit". Sooooo, 45 people were right on my heels and NOT HAPPY with "the nice lady in the green suit" who made them backtrack up the ramp to get to their dining area. If I have learned one thing about catering over the past 7 years it is NEVER NEVER NEVER get between a geriatric and their next meal . Thanks to our "helper" that rule was broken and although I am somewhat battered and beaten I defied the odds and managed to survive.

Good golly Miss Molly!

Contrary to the evidence I am a logical thinker and normally have no problem getting from point A to point B so my tolerance level for people who can't make a decision, ummm....not so much. I am working with the most indecisive bride in the history of the world and her wedding isn't until June of 09. By that time it will be easy to pick me out at the wedding reception as I will be the withered old crone over in the corner laughing hysterically and saying, "THANK YOU JESUS...it is OVER!" Actually it is probably a good thing the wedding isn't until 2009 as it will take her that long to decide if she wants white or ecru linens. We spent 15 minutes on the phone today while she was trying to decide if she wants crab or sausage stuffed mushrooms. Good grief lady, it's a flippin' MUSHROOM...just choose one! I would rather sandpaper a bobcats butt in a phone booth than deal with this woman for another year.

Who's passive agressive? ME? Naaaa!

You all already know I am a pig killer and this next story is hardly a shining example of my maturity level during my first marriage. I'm sure a lot of you are saying good grief didn't the man suffer enough when he was married to her? Is she really going to share another story that will make his head explode? Of course I am and I guess I just have to hope that he doesn't come across this site or I will be forced to go into the witness protection program. When we were living on the farm we had an enclosed back porch that was a great place to leave your "barn boots" especially during the winter and as you can imagine it could get a tad bit fragrant out there. He made the mistake of suggesting it might be a good idea if I cleaned his boots because the back porch was starting to smell. Oh..really? When he made that statement I was standing knee deep in laundry with a 6 month old screaming baby on my hip who hadn't slept the night before and a 2 yr old at the breakfast table who was turning his oatmeal into an art project. Clean his boots? You betcha baby cakes, happy to do it for ya. Sooo, later that afternoon I hosed the worst of the manure yuk off outside and then brought the boots inside to finish the job. I got out a toothbrush, liquid dish detergent and scrubbed away. By the time the boots had a final rinse they looked better than new. So there was nothing left for me to do except rinse his toothbrush off and put it back in the medicine cabinet. Done!

STRANGE PEOPLE

We had the oddest group of people for dinner the other night and I do mean ODD. They were all health care professionals from the corporate office so these are the people who decide if you REALLY need a new liver. Let me say one thing, if these folks are the "gate keepers" standing between us and death...it's over, hang it up, adios, hasta la vista baby and happy trails to you! They were scheduled to begin at 6pm so I was in the lobby at 5:45pm as it is not unusual for a group to arrive early. They didn't get here and they didn't get here and I'm shifting from one foot to the other. Finally at 6:30 ( just to ease the boredom) I walked outside and guess who I see standing just out of view of the front lobby. Soooo, I walked over to the group, introduced myself and invited them to come inside. On the way to the banquet area I mentioned that I was sorry they had arrived late but please relax and enjoy the rest of the evening. The leader gave me a funny look and said, "We have been here since five minutes of six." Hmmm, OK. "Yes, we got here early but didn't know where we were supposed to go so we just stood outside." Oh my goodness yes, I have a real group of genius's on my hands. Soooo, we get to the banquet room and the steel drummers are playing away, the bar is open and all the food is out. They don't go to the bar, they don't get any food, they sit down in their chairs and clutch their vinyl handbags to their chests like I'm getting ready to snatch them out of their little hands. I think maybe the leader is going to welcome everyone before they begin their evening and I step into the kitchen. A few minutes later I come back out and they are sitting just like they were when I left! Nobody is saying anything and the only sound is from the steel drums. Hmmm, so I went to the front of the room and said, "Ladies and gentlemen...the bar is open and your food is ready please help yourselves and enjoy your evening." My hand to God....they stood in unison (still holding their handbags) and they hit those food tables like a seven year locust invasion. I left shortly after that but Tim (steel drum) called me at home to tell me that they never once acknowledged his presence, never had a drink (the bar was open) and they left the banquet area less than 45 minutes after they arrived. Like I said...ODD ODD ODD.

The wheels fell off my buggy!

AND I HATE WHEN THE WHEELS FALL OFF MY BUGGY! Of course I am sure the wheels falling off had nothing to do with me loading it down with three 12 packs of Diet Cherry Coke (on sale at BiLo at three for $10), groceries and $50 of Pet Smart essentials. Just as I came out of the elevator one wheel headed toward Conway and the other one took off for Wilmington. Sooo...I unloaded the cart, hunted down the wheels and hammered the little suckers back on the axels. There for a minute I thought I would have to call AAA but thank goodness the Diet Cherry Coke was unharmed.

One of THOSE days.

I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason and we are supposed to be learning from the good and the bad. However, sometimes I wish God would just give me a hint of what it is he wants me to learn. Apparently I am pretty dense and he sometimes feels it is necessary to use the "smack her in the forehead with a hammer" approach. OK..I GOT IT! You can put away the hammer now.

I am a push over.

Several of my friends have made a point of telling me that I need to try clipping Morty's nails one more time before I have them yanked out. Yes, I know declawing is a barbaric procedure but I am willing to spend the extra $100 for the laser surgery which is supposed to be much kinder. I called the vet this morning and made the appointment but decided to try one last time to clip his nails. Ginglebelle saw me get the clippers and said, "YES!" Ginglebelle was declawed when she came to me and Morty is turning her into his personal pin cushion. According to the the Breakfast Club I am letting Morty have his way and I need to show him who's boss. I guess that is the problem, Morty and I both know he's the boss. So, while I am looking for the Mort Man (clippers hidden in pocket) I am thinking what a giant waste of energy this is going to be and why didn't I remember to buy more Bandaids. I find Morty on the screened porch napping in the sun and ONE MORE TIME...I wrapped him up in a beach towel with his head and one foot out. I pinned him tight and the little rascal not only let me clip his nails but stayed on my lap after I unwrapped the towel. I HATE it when men are right.

My Damn Duck

When I was 10 my Grandmother gave me a baby duck for Easter and I named her Chloe. However, from that day forward my Poppy called her "That Damn Duck". I am 99% sure nobody in my family expected Chloe to live past Memorial Day as baby chicks and ducks are not exactly known to be hardy pets especially when I am involved. Well guess what, apparently my duck was bionic and not only did she live past Memorial Day but three years later we finally gave her to friends of ours who lived on a lake where she continued to thrive for several more years. Chloe must have thought she was a dog because she would follow me everywhere with her little flat feet slapping with each step while she trotted along behind me. I even taught her to climb stairs. However, teaching her to come back down the stairs was not so successful. Chloe would stand at the top of the stairs and quack while rocking back and forth until someone would come carry her down. If we didn't respond quickly enough to suit her then she would tuck her feet and scoot down on her tummy. She loved to go with me to get the mail and would stand outside the post office and watch me through the glass door. If I was keeping her waiting too long she would quack and peck at the window and yes, she could be a tad bit demanding. Chloe's all time favorite thing to do was to stop by my Poppy's grocery store and he would always have a treat for her. Oh OK, he wasn't that thrilled when one morning he went to take a shower and found"That Damn Duck" swimming in his tub. Geesh...some people are so sensitive.

Do people actually die from embarrassment?

I can answer that question. No, people do not die from embarrassment but they do wish that they could. Once you become a parent the possibilities for humiliation are virtually unlimited and I can say with complete authority that my children excelled at keeping their parents very humble. We had three children all under the age of five and NOBODY ever willingly invited us to their house, not even my mother. On the rare occasions when we were a guest in someones home Dave and I would walk in the front door saying "I'm sorry". We didn't know the specifics of what would be broken we only knew that there would be destruction. The children didn't mean to break everything in their path but there were so many tempting distractions that HAD to be investigated. Like the time Polly broke the beaks off of my mothers Wedgwood crystal ducks. The very expensive ducks were sitting on the coffee table...HUGE mistake. My mother and I were on the couch talking when two year old Polly came strolling through the living room. Before my mom or I could make a move Polly scooped up the ducks, banged their little crystal heads together and said, "Look Damaw de ducks tissed." Well, when "de ducks tissed" their little beaks broke right off and one of them cracked a tail feather. My mother did let us come back for Christmas and Thanksgiving but far as I know our family is still banned at every Sears store in the Midwest. There were several incidents but I will only share two stories as I am not sure of the statute of limitations on the others. As the children and I were walking from the parking lot to the store I went over the list of rules. We don't run, we don't push, we don't pinch, we don't shout, we don't hide in the racks of clothes AND we don't peek under the dressing room doors and scare the bejeebers out of some poor lady who just wants two minutes alone to try and find a bra that doesn't pinch. There was one activity I neglected to mention. WE DON'T DUMP OVER THE GIANT ASHTRAY BY THE FRONT DOOR THAT IS FILLED WITH SAND. Do you have any idea how much sand one of those suckers holds? Well let me tell you, it's a bunch. There was sand, cigarette butts, almost empty coffee cups and assorted trash scattered clear across the entrance of the store. it looked like a scene from Brighton Beach Memoirs. Now, six months later...same store, same children, same mother trying to buy vacuum cleaner bags. Again..the list of rules. We don't run, we don't push, we don't pinch, we don't shout, we don't hide in the racks of clothes, we don't peek under dressing room doors AND we don't dump the giant ashtray filled with sand. This was not an extended shopping trip as we were going to one store to purchase one item and then going home. Eddie was in the process of being potty trained and would only use HER potty so time was of the essence. I am at the register in the home improvement department paying for my vacuum cleaner bags when Polly wraps her arm around my leg, sighs and says, "Oh Mama, Eddie is a big girl and now she can wear big girl panties." I am only half listening and replied, "Yes she is almost a big girl and when she potties all by herself we will get her big girl panties like yours." It was about that time that out of sheer instinct I turned around just in time to see my baby girl perched on a porcelain throne in the middle of Sears....red faced, completely naked and taking care of business. Just so you won't think their brother was a pillar of decorum I will share one of his shining moments. One Sunday a month our minister would invite all the preschoolers to sit in the front row and he would ask them questions pertaining to the lesson for that particular week and hoping they would make the connection between what we were learning and their daily lives. My kids LOVED the microphone and my heart would be in my throat on those Sundays. The lesson that week was about nourishing your spirit as well as your body and the minister started out by talking to the kids about how important it is to eat properly for our bodies to be healthy and strong. About halfway through his spiel Bud raised his hand (I stopped breathing) and this is what he told the entire congregation. "My mommy told my daddy that he drinked too much beer and he could just sleep on the couch until he was all done tootn'." That was the day I learned that no matter how hard you pray the floor will not open up and swallow you whole.

Free Range Chicken

I just don't get it...what is so special about free range chicken? Isn't that the same kind of chicken Grandma raised in the chicken yard between the house and the barn? Or is there some special chicken ranch out in Wyoming where the chickens work herding cattle during the day and sleep under the stars at night? While I was grocery shopping last weekend I went by the "actual" meat counter instead of the frozen food section where I usually sling a 5 lb bag of boneless skinless chicken breasts into my cart. I came to the conclusion that I'm not smart enough to cook fresh meat anymore. The selections JUST in the chicken case were overwhelming. I had the usual choices of whole, parts, skinless, boneless, skinless and boneless and then we got into the hormone free, free range and antibiotic free. Antibiotic free...does that mean the chickens had hormones and ran free but no antibiotics? Shouldn't it cost more for a chicken to have hormones and antibiotics? I'm not saying I want my chickens to have either one of those things but you would assume that if they did have antibiotics and hormones then the chicken would cost more. Think I will have a pork tenderloin sandwich, it's just easier.

I am a designer dummy or why we had to move.

Growing up in a small Midwestern farming community does not offer many opportunities to become familiar with fashion designers other than Carhartt, Levi and Wrangler. It is also a well documented fact that I am not a shopper and much prefer a good movie or book to shopping. Apparently I was born without the shopping gene. When Polly was working at a major airport as a bomb and drug dog handler (her dream job = my nightmare) her unit was given the once in a lifetime chance of affordably owning practically every item made by Louis Vuitton. Polly called home all excited, even though she also had no idea who or exactly what is a "Lewis Vooten". Her more brand conscious co-workers were practically comatose with delirium at this opportunity and I guess the excitement was contagious. So, Polly asked me the question every non-fashion conscious mother dreads to hear, "Mom, who is "Lewis Vooten"?" I had to tell her I had no clue but I would make the ultimate sacrifice and stop by the mall on my way home from work. I sat in the parking lot and put on fresh lipstick and combed my hair in preparation to enter the DESIGNER KINGDOM of the local department store. The sales clerk took one look at me and knew I was rube. She was reed thin, dressed all in black, pointy nose, glasses on a chain and her bun was so tight she could hardly blink. After looking down her nose at me she very haughtily said, "May I help you?" Her tone made it very obvious that she KNEW I was beyond help. Sooo, I stammered and stumbled around and finally asked, "Do you carry any "Lewis Vooten" items?" The sales clerks eyebrows shot up so high I was afraid they would sail right over her bun. She removed her glasses, put one hand on her hip and said, "My Lady, the proper pronouncation is LOUIE not LEWIS and the last name is pronounced VUTAWN not VOOTEN. He is is a VERY famous French designer... NOT a hillbilly craftsman." Said it kinda snotty too. I thanked her for the information and then gathered up what little dignity I had left and drove home to tell Dave we had to move because apparently he married an idiot and the word was out .

Fingernails

Morty and I are having a battle of wills and I am losing, badly. I have trimmed his nails every week since all 8 oz of Mr. Attitude arrived in Myrtle Beach last spring. He LOVED having his nails trimmed. Well, maybe not "loved" but tolerated the procedure very nicely. He would sit quietly on my lap while I held one paw and clipped his nails. The biggest problem we encountered was Mr. Nosey wanting to put his face right down next to where I am clipping and me being afraid I would nip his nose with the clippers. Last night I picked him up with one hand while hiding the clippers next to my chair. I sat down with him in my lap and told him what a pretty little boy he is and how much better he will feel when we trim those long nails. Then I scratched his tummy and rubbed his ears until he was ALMOST asleep. I quietly picked up the clippers and just as I clipped the first nail he went postal. You would have thought I was trying to use a chain saw and hammer. OK...plan B. I waited another 30 minutes, lured Morty back in my lap and attempted to wrap him up in a beach towel with one foot out. That went over REAL well. Try to imagine putting mittens on an octopus. An octopus with claws. An octopus with claws who does not WANT to wear mittens. I give up, I surrender...we will go see Dr. Doty for a nail trim. If kitty's have adolescence I think Morty is right at 13 and I am willing to bet that when I leave for work he changes into saggy pants and nose ring. Peace out.

Dang! I can cut hair!

I have needed a haircut for several days and last night I finally stopped by our area chop shop. You know a chop shop...one of those $10 places where the people who cut your hair just started beauty school that morning. I have a ton of hair so it is not easy to give me a bad haircut... not that it has never been done but you do have to work at it pretty hard. So anyway, I stop by the local chop shop and get in line with all the kids getting ready for their school photos and the local criminals who have an upcoming court appearance. The girl who cut my hair did a pretty good job but on the way home I decide she did not thin the top and sides nearly enough and there is no way I am turning around and fighting the traffic. Then I remembered that I have a "tool" I use on Ginglebelle to thin her undercoat so she doesn't shed so much, hmmmm. Well, when I got home I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and brushed my hair really really good. I took a deep breath and gingerly started slashing on the top of my head. Wow! Honey, that puppy can cut some hair! Then I stopped, brushed again and surveyed my work. Not bad, not bad at all. The sides were next on my list and I started whacking away on my left side. Hey...much better! Since I am right handed and my left hand is partially numb it did take me several tries to get the right side done and then I had to deal with trying to get both sides even. As long as I tilt my head to the left and slightly back...it looks GREAT!

Janie Brychik is an evil woman.

What kind of friend would give someone a whole pound of Godiva chocolates??? A really GOOD friend! Ooooh Janie, you know I LOVE chocolate and Godiva is the creme of the creme of chocolate. I am trying to just eat one a day but that's not working out so well unless we are now living in bizarro world and there are only two hours in each day. HEY...at least I'm not like another friend of mine (Jenn) who confiscated all the left over cheesecake and disapeared for 20 minutes. I don't want to falsely accuse anybody (Jenn who is married to Steven) of anything so all I have to say is SOMEBODY (Jenn who is married to Steven and lives in Surfside) had cheesecake breath the rest of the evening and you KNOW who you are!