Has to be spring …

… because they’re telling us it’s time to cut the top off the blanket and sew it onto the bottom, thus allowing DST to wreck us once again.  Found comment I can get behind:  Let’s make Eastern & Central one time zone, and Mountain & Pacific another and be done with it.  

If that sounds like an outstanding plan to you, start a petition or a march or something, please?  I’m going back to bed …

Spring_Forward

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And because it’s apropos in some weird way and made me laugh …

funny clean married couples pictures 12

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It’s like life …


… you just jump in somewhere.

I fell asleep last night thinking “Two more dayszZzzzz.”  Yes, kids, this Thursday morning the finish work on the skin graft will happen and the stitches at the inner and outer corners of my eye will be released and life will go on.  Just like that.  Moment of silence, please, while I pay homage to the preceding two months that passed in spite of me.  Thank you.

So … as I was saying, anything can derail us from writing.  It’s a challenge for me to stay focused on the best day, and because I’m a pansy-ass I have to say that the past sixty days or so, taken in their entirety, will not make my “best” list.   Parts of them were excellent, of course … but I digress.

The eye thing is turning out to be a bit of a watershed event (one in a continuing series) in ways I’m still figuring out.  At first it was the teensiest bit scary, and then it was painful, and then it was, and still is, just a nuisance.  It knocked me off my writing rocker, but lonnng since I could see in stereo again I’ve just hung around down here on the floor hoping nobody would notice.  The horse waits …

My dearest, sweetest, most wonderful, funniest, very possibly smartest WordPress/Facebook/Real True Friend Cristy Carrington Lewis triple-dog challenged me to a write-off, first poster wins.  This is me posting but I hope she wins, she’s so precious.  Go say hello at http://paltrymeanderings.com.  She answers to Miss Snarky Pants and she writes a “Humor Blog for Horrible People.”  I ❤️ her.

Here’s to you, darling girl.  Much success as you travel through the blogosphere, and not only in besting silver-haired adolescent seniors (my truth is safe with you, no?) … but in making your mark, of course.

dead and rotten

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Really? Are you kidding me?

See the post before this one?  Okay … GUESS. WHAT. DAY. IT. IS!!  Yes.  Again.

So it may or may not have been a somewhat challenging week in which whimpering, bitching, and one hugh-jass meltdown happened.  Pretty sure there was an afternoon where somebody cried for two or three hours and totally freaked out her husband and fluffy little dog.  The upside is that the eye — the sumbish in our story — actually felt better afterward, so there’s that.

The days have slipped by and the weather outside has gone from cold to warm to cold again.  We’re hibernating … but ready to be sociable.  Not today so much, because it’s snowy and wet and feels like 10 degrees Fahrenheit, and what you hear me saying is that unless you’re coming to our house we won’t be seeing you yet, because the fireplace is just too nice, and Maddie and I are snuggled at my desk with the divine little radiant heater Kim got us today, the same Kim who’s adorably zoned out “watching” TV …  and we’re just not leaving, you can’t make us leave.

It’s gray here, and cold.  I’m glad that never lasts.  Grass and leaves and sunshine always feel slow coming back, just like health and well-being, but it all gets here, and mostly on time.

Coming back.  Might even be back again tomorrow …

wintersummerframe

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Holy cow, it’s HumpDay again! Already!!

How does this happen??

6-25-humpday

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On a sunny Tuesday afternoon in January …

So tell me you’ve been finding every opportunity to dance since last week — it’s such a good habit to get into!  By dance I mean sparks of any sort inside the person that is you.  You give your heart permission to feel not just okay, but fabulous, even if it’s only a hit-and-run, and should it leak out your fingers and toes, by all means … make rhythm out of it.

It’s a bits & pieces Tuesday.  Here’s a glorious bit that Mary Oliver wrote about her partner of forty years, Molly Malone Cook, that makes my heart dance.  “The dance” is often The Blues …

“She was style, and she was an old loneliness that nothing could quite wipe away; she was vastly knowledgeable about people, about books, about the mind’s emotions and the heart’s. She lived sometimes in a black box of memories and unanswerable questions, and then would come out and frolic — be feisty, and bold.” 

I love that so much.

And these two pieces made my brain boogie today …

nowayframe

letgoframe

Is it just me or is there a connection in all these jangly bits?    Seriously, anything’s possible when your brain dances with your heart.

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Sunday scenic …

Sometimes I like finding nightmarish photos that creep me out, because it just feels so gosh darn good to know I’ll never have to set foot in those places.  I mean, work with me, universe.  Rehab has been mentioned, but I happen to know it doesn’t do any good unless the rehab-ee is on board with the whole thing, and it’s a perfectly harmless little habit.  I’m not giving it up, because when that Zen rush hits, it’s just too good.  Perspective is everything.

CMFrame

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In an odd sort of mood …

IN THE LAND OF ODD

OddlandFrame

This — my 300th post on WordPress!

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Friday fun on a Saturday …

A young guy from North Dakota moves to Florida and goes to a big “everything under one roof” department store looking for a job.

The manager says, “Do you have any sales experience?”

The kid says, “Yeah. I was a vacuum salesman back in North Dakota.”

The manager’s unsure, but he likes the kid and figures he’ll give him a shot, so he gives him the job. “You start tomorrow. I’ll come down after we close and see how you did.”

His first day on the job is rough, but he gets through it. After the store is locked up, the manager comes down to the sales floor to check on how the kid did on his first day. “How many customers bought something from you today?”

The kid frowns and looks at the floor and mutters, “One.”

The manager replies, “Just one?!!? Our employees average 20 to 30 customer-sales a day. That will have to change and fast if you want to continue your employment here. We have very strict standards for our sales force here in Florida. One sale a day might have been acceptable in North Dakota, but you’re not on the farm anymore, son.”

The kid takes his beating, but continues to look at his shoes. The manager feels kind of bad for chewing him out on his first day, so he asks half sarcastically, “So, how much was your one sale for?”

The kid looks up at his manager and says “$101,237.65.”

The manager, astonished, says, “$101,237.65?!? WTF did you sell?”

The kid says, “Well, first, I sold him some new fish hooks. Then, I sold him a new fishing rod to go with his new hooks. Then, I asked him where he was going fishing and he said down the coast, so I told him he was going to need a boat. We went down to the boat department, and I sold him a twin-engine ChrisCraft. Then he said he didn’t think his Honda Civic would pull it, so I took him down to the automotive department and sold him that 4×4 Expedition.”

The manager says “A guy came in here to buy a fish hook, and you sold him a boat and a TRUCK!?”

The kid says, “No, the guy came in here to buy tampons for his wife, and I said, ‘Dude, your weekend’s shot, you should go fishing.'”

 

expedition_181

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Monday, Monday …

Mondays carry a melancholy feel.  Why is that?  Even now, willfully unemployed, I’m sorry to see the weekend, well, END.  Because my friends head back to work for five whole days and I wouldn’t think of annoying them in the middle of all that.  And it’s likely some sort of latent psychosis — a Monday maladjustment.  Predictably, by Tuesday morning the psyche is once again in harmony with the turning of the earth, and the blue mood slips away.  Must.Make.Changes.  Adopting a new attitude about Mondays, starting in 4 … 3 … 2 …

 

Monday

 

minion-monday

 

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Fair-weather … everything!

So today my plan was to slog through the last stack of paper in my office, but it’s cloudy out.  Yesterday’s plans went off the rails because the darn sun was shining.  And the two days prior to yesterday, if I remember correctly, it was raining.  Sort of.  Some of the time.  So yeah, not sure when I’ll be able to deal with this final eyesore.  Soon.  I’m sure of it.

Snow day pursuits …

took a nap

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Stand back …

Going Pleasant

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The Elusive Flangiprop

So my husband and I are flying down the highway when the WordPress Daily Prompt pops up on my iPad with a curious command — “Invent a definition for the word ‘flangiprop,’ then use the word in a post.”  Invent!  Invent?  Why would anyone have to invent a definition for flangiprops?  Even if they aren’t native to your part of the world, surely most people remember them!

Incredibly, just as the imperative hit my inbox, we saw a large herd of partially-domesticated flangiprops in a pasture next to the road.  They’re rarely spotted in such numbers anymore, their population having been heavily reduced during the Great Flangiprop Slaughter of 1957.  They’ve been struggling valiantly to recover ever since, and they generally stay out on the open prairie where they won’t be seen by their only natural predator — man.

Flangiprop Herd

These looked well cared for, however, and didn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects from being held in captivity.  We were able to snap a couple of quick photos without spooking them, and I’m thrilled to be able to share those with you here, especially this shot of what appeared to be the alpha flangiprop.  Perhaps they’re not bound for extinction after all!

Alpha Flangiprop

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/?s=flangiprop

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