Category Archives: My blog
How many ways can you say ‘have sex’ and keep it, uh, clean?
Since I still get many hits on this post, I thought I’d reblog it today.
As writers, we have to come up with various ways to say ‘having sex’ without delving into the use of that four letter word. I mean we COULD use that word BUT then you get editors and readers who don’t like the word and stop reading. We don’t want that! Many of us use that word—I include myself in there, but we use it sparingly in our writing, if at all.
At the May Pennwriters conference, the subject came up when I asked Dave, after reading his works for years, just exactly how many ways he could say it. (Actually, I think I said, “Holy crap, Dave you can write F___ in more ways than anyone I know. Have you ever written them all down in a list? We could have some fun by asking everyone what euphemisms they use.) He often surprises me with his euphemisms. …
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Play it or not?
Powerball is up to a record high. Do I buy tickets or not? I think I will, no sense at all in not giving it a shot. I never go crazy on buying the tickets–unlike buying tickets at the PW conference for baskets.
What would I do with all that money?
First, I’d buy a house that I liked near water ( a lake, a beach, or next to a good fishing river) not his parents old house.
Then, I’d hire someone to take excellent care of The Curmudgeon and the pups for a month while I go on a vacation to some luxury spa on a beach.
I would take care of my friends and my cousins.
I’d hire a trainer and get myself totally fit and healthy.
I’d set up a fund for BTs needing rescue and care.
I can dream can’t I?
You all have a good one!
The Lotto Powerball logo (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
We hadn’t celebrated our first anniverary yet when…
The Curmudgeon left overnight to go fishing with his best friend. A few hours later, I got a phone call from his friend’s brother that they were in an accident and he’d be here to pick me up in a few minutes.
It took the plastic surgeon over 4 hours to stitch up The Curmudgeon’s face and sew his ear back in place. He’d gone through the windshield…twice… once forward and then backwards as his knees caught on the dash and pulled him back through. No seat belts in that car.
In the meantime I sat in the hospital all that time not knowing if he was alive or dead. A nurse handed me a bag of bloody clothes saying, “I suppose you want his personal effects.” And then she walked away without another word. No one told me anything for over four hours!
I’d seen his friend and knew he was okay but I’d heard nothing about The Curmudgeon. Finally, the plastic surgeon came out to talk to me and explain what he had to do. He told me he stopped counting at 1000 stitches. That was forty years ago. There are times it seems like yesterday.
Give me another day like this!
I need more days like yesterday. I was out and about with G from 11:30 until after 3. We went to a bagel shop, a dollar store, and a grocery store.
Then we went for a good walk in the park. All the trees are in bloom there.
Then we made a stop at the farmers market.
You all have a good one!
Let’s see what happens.
A while back I posted a bit of a rude comment on the National MS society’s FB page.
I was actually surprised when they asked if they could contact me in person. I said they could.
I got a call today. So far it sounds as though they will try to help. We’ll see. We have yet to have any sort of help from any MS group. Once they find out our income (just above what they consider ‘in need’) and that he is secondary progressive and not relapsing remitting, they and any help offered tends to disappear.
It is still my opinion that all they do is take in money and do not truly assist anyone. I hope they prove me wrong.
The only thing The Curmudgeon ever got from an MS group was an ice vest and that was because of his neurologist more than anyone. I’m not looking for a free ride, but we do need some help because I cannot do it all!
After spending so much time clearing out his mother’s house, having the heart attack, and feeling so darned tired all the time, I fell far enough behind in my house cleaning that it seems overwhelming. If only the house were cleaned to a level where I could keep it up without feeling so completely overwhelmed, I’d feel very less stressed each day.
The fact that I wake up stressed on a daily basis, which in turn stresses him out, has become a vicious circle. I no longer smoke because of the heart attack but it doesn’t mean that I’m not tempted to light one every single day.
He can’t do much around here, he can’t even take the dogs for a stroll like he used to, with his scooter out of commission it’s a no go. His scooter came out of our pocket in total and when it stopped working the manufacturer never responded on repairing it. (Basically we were told screw you.) Now it sits in the yard collecting rust and weeds. I can’t fix it and he most certainly can’t.
Anyway, it’s another day of one foot in front of the other, trudge forward, and hope tomorrow is better.
You all have a good one!
Sheeee’s baaack!
Every year a dove nests here. For years they made messy attempts to but couldn’t make it work. Finally, several years ago, The Curmudgeon put that plastic shelf up for them.
Momma’s on her second nesting this year…
You all have a good one.
A quick funny for you today.
Once upon a time, in a land far away, a beautiful princess happened upon a frog, as she sat contemplating ecological issues, on the shores of an unpolluted pond in a verdant meadow near her castle.
The frog hopped into the Princess’ lap and said, “Elegant Lady, I was once a handsome Prince until an evil witch cast a spell upon me. One kiss from you, however, and I will turn back Into the dapper, handsome, charming, young Prince that I was and then, my sweet, we can marry and set up housekeeping in yon castle with my mother. There, you can prepare my meals, clean my clothes, bear my children, and forever feel grateful and happy doing so.
That night, on a repast of lightly sautéed frog legs seasoned in a white wine and onion cream sauce, she chuckled to herself and thought, “I don’t fucking think so.”
Goliath the bullfrog
Screaming frog
Doggonedmysteries 