What feather duster?

Feather Duster

Morty

Do I really have to tell you how many days the feather duster has been sitting in this chair?? FINE...five days, happy now?? FIVE DAYS but I am moving it today mainly because I cannot tell you how many times I have reached down to "pet" the feather duster thinking it is Morty because after all...it is HIS chair. Polly and Eddie are already looking for any excuse  to drop me off at Shady Pines and I really don't need to give them any ammunition. I have a completely logical explanation about why the feather duster has been sitting in this chair for the last five days and I think it's called ADD. I dug out the feather duster to dust the ceiling fan in the living room but the glass tables looked worse so I started there but halfway through decided that was dumb because the dust from the ceiling fan would fall on the tables and I would only have to dust them again and then the doorbell rang and it was the UPS man with a new ink cartridge for my printer so I put the new ink cartridge in and printed off a letter I needed to mail so when I took the letter to the mail box I noticed the steps needed to be swept and when I put the broom away the storage closet was a mess so I straightend that up a bit and then it was lunch time. Why yes, I do believe that is probably the longest runon sentence EVER but that is exactly what happened, so shut up. Sorry Mrs. Johnson (my high school English teacher), hope this post doesn't make you twirl in your grave.

Downton Abbey

Bet ya thought since I am familiar with Honey Boo Boo I wouldn't have a clue about the PBS series Downton Abbey but ha ha ha....you would be wrong! I simply cannot wait until season 3 premieres in January and have come to the conclusion I was supposed to be born in England during the early 1900's. I have known for a long time that I would make a very nice rich person but after seeing Downton Abbey I have decided being rich in England with your own castle, married to an Earl and having an entire staff to meet your every need is something I could probably get used to pretty quickly.  It doesn't hurt that the Earl of Grantham (Robert Crawley) is played by Hugh Bonneville who I have always thought is cute enough to put on a biscuit. I would hate to get stuck with one of those whiny, limp wristed, runny nosed aristocrats who wouldn't recognize a good time if it slapped him upside the head but ole Hugh...yeah, he's the real deal. I can see us propped up in our royal bed on our royal pillows, eating royal popcorn and watching Netflix or maybe NASCAR on a rainy Sunday afternoon. Maggie Smith plays his mother (Violet Crawley) the Dowager Countess of Grantham and in my eyes she is the English version of my favorite octogenarian...Maxine, who is also my role model. As you can imagine with any wealthy family living in a castle with a huge staff there is no shortage of intrigue but what fascinates me the most are O'Brien's bangs. O'Brien is played by Siobhan Finneran and is a sneaky, spiteful Lady's Maid to the Countess of Grantham. You have got to see these bangs, they could carry a show all on their own. First of all, I don't think they are technically bangs but since they hang in the vicinity of her forehead I don't know what else to call them. They are springy coils that bounce when she talks and I tend to get all wrapped up in watching those things bounce around and forget to pay attention to what she is saying. I'm telling you they are an entity all on their own! If you aren't familiar with this show I highly recommend you watch season one and two on Hulu Plus and if you are cheap (like me) just sign up for the free week. I am very sorry Hulu Puls...yes that is exactly what I did and yes, I am slightly ashamed of taking advantage of your generosity. Still can't believe I was born in Kingman, IN in 1950 instead of Hampshire, England in 1920. Of course with my luck instead of being born the Countess of Grantham I would be the sneaky, spiteful Lady's maid with bad hair.

Polly and Eddie don't read this

...and if you are a friend of either one of them don't mention this post but please put your arms around them, give them a big hug and say bless your heart. They will know it has something to do with their mother but I promise you they don't want the details. OK, so here goes...my latest travel faux pas. A few weeks ago I was packing for a short trip and since it is emotionally impossible for me to be separated from email or Facebook for more than about 12 minutes I made sure my Kindle Fire was in my purse. I was in a hurry (yes Anny, I DID wait until the last minute to pack) and I noticed the screen was really smudgey...is that a word? Smudgey? Sorry, my mind wanders. Sooo...I threw a few of the foil wrapped alcohol based electronic cleaning packets in my purse. By the way, if you don't have any of these marvelous little packets you need to get up right now and go buy at least a case. Not only do they clean your electronics but they are great for your glasses, sunglasses and phone. TommyB picked me up for our trip to the airport and I talked him into whipping through McDonald's so I could get a big ole bladder buster Diet Coke. I'm not a coffee fan but honey I can knock back a Diet Coke in a heart beat. We got to the airport in record time, made it through security without incident (rare for me) and next thing you know we are airborne. Finally the ding ding sounds meaning passengers are free to get up and use the bathroom if they so choose and believe me, I so choose. I hate airplane bathrooms but due to the bladder buster Diet Coke it was necessary to visit the facility. TMI? Oh honey, if you think that is TMI then you don't need to read any further! So I wedge myself into the minuscule space, hold my purse in my teeth, take care of business and reach into my purse for one of the little foil wrapped travel bathroom cleansing cloths. Come on...be a sport and guess which one of these foil packets I pulled out of my purse?

Yep, the first one. Did I read the packet first? Oh heck no. Lawzamercy, as I am banging around in there frantically digging through my purse hunting for the CORRECT foil packet it had to sound like I was trapped in that teeny tiny space with a claustrophobic crazed orangutan with a hammer. I am proud to say I did not not scream but it would be a big lie to say there wasn't a tear in my eye when I finally made my way back to my seat. Not a mistake I plan to make again.

Reality TV or why Honey Boo Boo is no Queen For A Day

OH my goodness gracious sakes alive. My grandparents had so many wonderful sayings (some I can repeat in mixed company and most I can't) but one of their sayings comes to mind and really applies to this particular reality TV show...If it ain't purdy don't put it on the front porch. I am guessing Honey Boo Boo's grandparents never heard that expression. Yeah, we all know I'm a sucker for reality TV...Dance Mom's (Miss Abby scares the bejeebers out of me), Keeping Up With The Kardashians (my butt is big enough but my bank account is woefully lacking), Hillbilly Handfishing (this show is like flipping through my family photo album) and my favorite reality show of all time Queen For A Day! If you are of a certain age (so old you fart dust, another one of my Poppy's favorite sayings) you will remember this show started on the radio in the 40's and moved to TV in the early 50's. My grandmother never missed an episode and since I was a preschooler living with my grandparents that means I never missed an episode either. Even at the tender age of 4 I wondered how desperate I would have to be to tell the WORLD all my troubles and as if that isn't horrible enough you also are judged by an applause meter. I do have to confess the crown, roses, throne and of course the red velvet cape with the sable trim held a huge amount of appeal.  I also learned that if you want to win you HAVE to cry or you just as well stay in the car and not humiliate yourself on national TV. It couldn't be one of those wimpy single tear on the cheek cries...oh no, it had to be a sobbing, snot flying ugly cries. OH...guess I should mention that in the early 70's it was discovered that the most recent version of Queen For A Day was rigged and the contestants were all paid actresses. Think Honey Boo Boo is is fictional? Nope, me either and my hand to God I swear I ran into the entire family on my last trip to Walmarts. 

Walmarts is trying to give me a stroke.

Walmarts is not a typo, I live in the South and down here it is definitely Walmarts not sure why but it's been that way since I moved down here boocoo years ago. Yes, boocoo is also a measurement of time in the South but I digress.  After watching Morty throw himself down face first in front of his food bowl and sob I figured it was probably time to restock the cat food cabinet. So I jumped in my trusty Honda and headed to Walmarts as there is nothing worse than a whiney cat. While I was there I decided to swing by the "this meat must be used by 4:15 this afternoon or you will die from a horrible disfiguring disease" meat case and see what goodies were ripe (poor choice of words) for the picking. I hit the jackpot! I love those little pork tenderized cube steaks and they had two packages marked down to less than half price. There was a meat department clerk a few feet away and I said, "Excuse me sir, if you have more of these pork cutlets in the back I would like to buy them too." He didn't acknowledge my presence but he did start walking towards the door leading to the storage area. OK, that looks promising so I followed closely behind. Just as he is opening the door another Walmarts employee stopped him, showed him a ham and they both start walking towards the meat case at the far end of the store. Well...maybe there is a customer there who needed something and we are taking a little detour. That's fine, I know I'm not the only customer in the store. Well...guess again. They pick up and put down every ham in the case at least once and I am waiting and waiting AND waiting. The three of us finally  start moving back towards the magical doors where my pork cutlets are hiding. The "Ham Man" and I are standing about three feet apart and he also never says a word to me. A few minutes later the meat clerk appears with additional packages of the pork cutlets, hands them to me and again not one word is spoken. I THANK HIM and just as I turn on my heel to leave the "Ham Man" turns and I can read his name tag. Ha! Come on, guess what his job is at Walmarts?? Yep, CUSTOMER SERVICE MANAGER! I thought my head was going to explode!! Are you kidding me?!? Yep, it's official....Walmarts is trying to give me a stroke.